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dinner-djarin · 3 years

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Until the Sun Rises

Part 2: Beautifully Catastrophic

Anakin x Jedi!reader

Summary: The Clone Wars have begun, and although you and Anakin remain best friends, you have sensed your relationship growing distant, both from your time spent apart in battle, and from the inclusion of a certain woman into his life. When you finally get a moment to share alone with him, however, things do not go as you would have wished.

Notes: Part 2 takes place probably a year or so after part 1. Reader is young, probably around 18 or 19. Another Happy Birthday wish to @hellotherebonky

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff/angst. Reader gets very angry, yikes.

Part 1

Only one year later would Anakin be made an official Jedi Knight, just after the start of the Clone Wars. And as much as you hoped for peace in the galaxy, you secretly revelled in the start of the fighting, as it meant you were finally able to leave the Temple on a regular basis. You and your Master fought many battles together, and you felt yourself grow stronger with The Force every day. Master Sente admitted they may have been wrong to keep you guarded all that time, as you proved yourself to be a very cunning and diligent warrior. You learned ten times faster out in the galaxy then you did by studying away in the record halls. Being out there, learning on the battlefield, this was what made you finally shine.

The one downfall, however, was the reality that your assignments kept you away from Anakin.

He and Obi-wan stayed close, even after he proved himself capable and passed his trials, so the two of them often went on missions together… a fate you once dreamed of for yourselves.

But in all honesty, you were thankful for the space from Anakin. Ever since Padme Amidala had been thrust back into his life, you were tormented by how different Anakin had become. He didn’t confide in you as often, and when he did, the sole topic was her. How he couldn’t stand to be away from her. How he dreamt only of her. How only she could tame the fire that seared his soul.

One might think that a war should be the cause of such an uprooting to your life - but the war paled in comparison to the return of a woman.

You could see what drew him to her. Her beauty was only paralleled by her intelligence and kindness. She was stunning - you might even say she was perfect.

Her angelic form could not rival whatever you had to offer him. In fact, you had nothing to offer him, as the Jedi Code stood between any dreams you could dare to possess. At least with her, only his own morals were tempted. He didn’t confide the true nature of his relationship with Padme to you, but in your heart, you knew things had gone too far. It broke you to see him throw away his future for her, but it broke you more that he would never do the same for you.

She was lovely enough to include you in her life too, obviously noting the fact that you were Anakin’s only true friend at the Temple. You spent lunches and dinners and nights out together at the opera. Over the short time you spent together you unconsciously came to like her. More than that, you admired her.

You admired how she continued to fight for the rights of those who had none. How she was always unafraid to speak her mind and stand against what she believed to be wrong. You also noticed just how strong willed she could be in those opinions; ready to take on any voices raised against her own.

And as much as you tried to be happy for the two best people in your life, you couldn’t help the way that they remind you of the neutron star collisions you were taught about as a youngling. Two stars burning hot and bright, caught in each other's gravity, encircling one another over and over in a beautiful rhythm, until time and space can no longer accommodate for their existence. A beauty burning so bright that it can only be catastrophic.

Padme is brilliant and caring, but she is determined and independent. Anakin is willing to fight to the end for what he loves, but he is only satisfied when it is him who makes the sacrifices, and him who makes the choices. He needs to control everything, but she cannot be controlled.

You’ve grown alongside Anakin, and you’ve grown to love Padme. Separate they are unstoppable. They believe they can change the galaxy. But you know neither sees that goal in the same way.

You recount the way Anakin fought so hard against the council, over and over, believing that he knew better, or his approach would suit the situation over theirs. Often, he was proven right. He was talented, but the council only thought of him as reckless and lucky, making him seek to push against them even harder. For nights on end, you would hear him rant on about his distrust in such a system.

“We would be better off to decide for ourselves what we thought was right” he would go on. “How can we put our faith in a group of old, washed up Master’s who have long forgotten what it’s like to put their own lives on the line.” Eventually he would finish with sentiments along the line of: “I think they’re just scared to make the decisions that needed to be made”

But you also knew how faithful Padme was to that same system. She believed in the power of diplomacy and democracy. A freedom made by sitting and talking through their issues. Words right out of the mouth of Anakin; words of distaste for a future he couldn't see himself a part of.

It kept you wondering just how long it might take for fate - for The Force - to intervene. You knew it would have to, in some form or another. It always did. You waited for the day they would implode. And you swore you would be by his side when they did.

You waited. But the day hadn’t come.

Instead, the Clone Wars dragged on. You were eventually Knighted. A relatively small ceremony for the troubled times, but even Anakin made his way to be there. He looked proud as you knelt before the council and agreed to do the will of The Force.

“I can’t believe I finally made it,” you whisper to Anakin as you shuffle out of the council room.

“I never doubted you would, little one.” His voice quiet too but resonating directly into your ear as he hunched over to place his mouth next to your face.

“I did. All the time,” you say as you tilt your face to meet his.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” Just then you realized you had worked yourselves away from the crowd into the hall where your adjacent rooms were held. “Come on, for old times’ sake.” His head nodding towards his own room, but you understood the final destination he had in mind.

You both carefully maneuvered your bodies over the ledge of his balcony onto the roof of the temple. “This was easier when we were children,” you remarked through laboured breaths.

“Everything was,” he responded, settling into the spot next to you so that your two thighs were barely grazing. The positioning reminded you of a night you spent together not so long ago. Watching the life of Coruscant fill the skies. Now the view had barely changed, save for the fact you were currently watching a setting sun instead of a vast darkness.

You both sat in silence, as you often did, words rarely necessary when you felt each other's presence so clearly already. Tuning into his aura, you felt a turbulence - an unease you had never felt before. What is that? You thought, forgetting how thoroughly lodged you were in his essence. “I’m sorry, Anakin. I didn’t mean to intrude-”

“It’s alright. I have nothing to hide, not from you. Never from you.” He admits as he turns to look into your eyes. You met his gaze instantly, and whatever you had felt in his aura had also taken root in his face. Besides the new scar, there were clear signs of worry and fear - his secrets slowly burdening him from the inside out.

“Please tell me, Anakin. You know you can tell me, whatever it is.” You attempt to reassure him. You know he must have a lot on his mind, and you know there is rarely anyone else he can truly confide in. His relationship with Padme meant he could not completely confide in Obi-wan, but the nature of his role and the severity of his actions during the Clone Wars caused a further rift between him and his wife.

“There’s so much. I don’t even know where to begin,” he starts.

“How about the beginning.” Your voice is almost teasing, until you see the bleakness in his weathered face. The horrors of war depleting the once joyful and youthful peace that filled him. Now he looked harsh and serious. He had told you of the things he had done, even before the Clone Wars began, and you could piece together how easily the added burdens had manifested in his soul.

“The council gave me a Padawan.” He spoke softly as he stared at the horizon.

“Already? They must have great faith in you.”

“I think the opposite. They wish to tame me, or to see me fail.” You could sense the hint of anger breaking through his otherwise stoic appearance.

“Anakin, I know you don’t trust them but-”

“But what? When have they ever trusted me?!” His quiet demeanor abruptly dissolving. “Why should I think they’re doing this out of my best interest?”

“How has it been?” You attempt to diffuse him. “What are they like?”

Anakin takes a moment to regain his peace. “She’s like me, Ahsoka.”

“Then she’ll be trouble.” You say with a jab to his ribs.

“Hey.” He nudges you back, and you almost slip from your spot to the balcony below. “Oh Maker, sorry.” He begins again, “I just fear she’s too much like me. She deserves a Master who is knowledgeable of The Force, who can help her find strength and stability. She is wild, and takes risks-”

“And is that bad? She sounds exactly like you. Maybe she needs someone to show her that trusting herself is as important as trusting The Force.”

“I don’t know if I can be that for her. I don’t even know if I trust myself anymore.” his voice reaching a quiet once again. So low, you understand that there is more to what he has shared.

“What’s really going on, Anakin?” You sense his trouble, and you know he has not fully divulged the root of his strife. In a moment of weakness, you let your emotions surface and ask, “Is it Padme?”

“What!? Why would it be Padme? Why would you ask that?” But his voice is too defensive for you to leave the subject alone.

“I just mean keeping the secret. Keeping her a secret. It must be weighing on you. And on top of everything-”

“On top of what?” He asks sternly. But his question stirs something in you, and pokes at all the thoughts you had bottled up over the months of observing the two of them.

“I mean you two already fight enough as it is. You get jealous and she gets angry. You just never seem to be on the same page.”

“You don’t approve of Padme?” He questions harshly.

“Of course I approve of Padme, as if I even need to. I mean she’s perfect. She’s almost too damn good for you-”

“What so I don’t deserve her? You think she should be with someone else?” You saw the aforementioned jealousy rising back up in him, further proving your point.

“I think you’re throwing away your life for a relationship you aren’t even happy in!”

“How could you know If I’m happy?”

“Because I know you, Anakin! I’ve known you for most of your life. I’ve seen you happy, and you aren’t happy with her.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“How is it not? You fight all the time; you don’t agree on anything. Is it supposed to be this hard? Why are you even still with her if she makes your life so difficult?”

“Because she’s my wife!” He admits loudly, a contrast to the deafening silence that follows.

You stare at him for what feels like hours. Your tongue runs dry from the stale air that passes through your agape mouth. Several minutes pass before you realize you hadn’t taken a proper breath.

“What are you talking about, Anakin.” These are the only words you can muster, and they come out painfully against the scratch of your dry throat.

“Just after the assignment where I guarded Padme,” he begins, “I lost my arm, and the Clone Wars began, and there was so much going on. I never realized how easily it could all be taken away. I almost died fighting Dooku.”

“So you decided to get married?” Your mind running too fast, too cluttered with thoughts to string together a calm response. “You lived, Anakin. You’re alive. So you decided to throw it all away because you almost died. Because you realized you could have died. We are Jedi. We could die any day. That’s the freaking point! How could you do something so foolish?!” You scream your words at him like blaster bolts, hoping for the first time ever that you could hurt him, like he had hurt you all these years.

“It was not foolish, I loved her then, and I love her now.” He admits to you angrily.

“And I loved you. I've loved you since the day you came here. And you never gave me a second glance. You never even tried to love me back. I've been here for you the whole time. Through everything. And still, you can't seem to care for me at all. I don't even know why I should care. I should have left you alone years ago. What have I ever gotten out of this? Pain. Hurt. Anger. You’ve pushed me to my breaking point time and time again. You have been more challenging than anything I faced in the trials. But I tried. I tried to be here for you, and hear every problem, every complaint. But you were never here for me. Not once. I’m done.” you say as you slide off the roof. “I cannot believe that all this time you’ve been married to her. And you never once thought to tell me. I am your best friend. At least I thought I was. Maker, Anakin, no wonder everything implodes around you.”

As you retreated, you felt the pain resonate from his aura. Your words tore at his soul and left him to bleed out. But you had enough. You were destroyed, and you needed him to know how deeply he had wounded you first. So, you abandoned him on that roof. You walked away from the one person who you truly loved. With every step you felt the strings of your attachment snap, you felt his presence leaving you in a way it never had before.

But he let you go. Not because he wanted to. But because you were right. He hadn’t been there for you. All those years you had been his crutch. You had listened to every childish rant. You had talked through every problem with him. But what had he done for you? He used you, and he knew it. What good would it do to beg you to stay? He could only be so selfish.

But you were also wrong, because he did love you. He should have shown it better. He should have told you long ago. But his world had become a destructive mess, and he decided he deserved all the pain and torment it had brought. Anakin wasn’t even sure how he loved you. It surely wasn’t the same way he felt about Padme. No, that love was raw. It was fire, and passion. It burned him alive. He loved you softly, like a warm embrace. You brought comfort and joy, even when the world was crumbling around him. Maybe he knew he didn’t deserve such happiness. Maybe that's why he let you walk away.

Part 3

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars #the clone wars #TCW #anakin angst #reader insert #prequel series #star wars prequels #attack of the clones #revenge of the sith #jedi #sith #jedi reader

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padawanlost · 3 years

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Hi, I dont read alot (of books) but I was just wondering, did Anakin/vader ever see people he helped/freed (during his time as a jedi) being oppressed by the empire. Did he feel pity or sorrow for them? Or had he totally unplugged from those emotions at that point ?

No. Anakin was to broken to feel sorry for anyone but himself. People have this idea of Vader being a sadistic monster who thrived on the suffering he caused but the truth is he was too lethargic to care. He didn’t stay with Palpatine out enjoyment or even loyalty. He stayed because he had nowhere else go, no one else to be with.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself … It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith— Because now your self is all you will ever have. And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the *shadow* who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself— And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever … [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

What Vader appeared to be - no fucks given BAMF – were very different from what he truly was: Palpatine’s slave. Vader, once you get to know him, is not a scary monster. He’s a quite pathetic and hopeless man.

He wasn’t a sadistic control freak like Palpatine and he didn’t *enjoy* hurting people he didn’t feel deserve to be hurt but he was too damaged and broken to do anything about it. he kind of just went with it.

In one of the comics, he has to face the truth that the Empire is enslaving people and he is upset about it. but he does nothing because there's nothing left in him. for him to pity them, he’d have to empathize with them and that’s something he couldn’t afford to do. He was too trapped in his own private little hell to feel bad for people.

Again the smile or snarl from his Master. “You were a traitor, were you not, Lord Vader?” Vader’s breathing caught on the hook of sudden anger. “What did you say?”

“To the Jedi. To Padmé. To Obi-Wan. To all those you loved.” His Master turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting the flames.

Vader didn’t know the answer his Master wanted to hear, so he simply answered with the truth. “Yes.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

If he couldn’t even care enough to defend himself from his master abusive behavior, I doubt he’d ever care enough to pity a stranger.

When it comes to Vader’s apathetic, one of the best examples I can think of is his ‘relationship’ with Drua. In one of the books, Vader and Palpatine are stranded. They run into a girl and Vader saves her life:

“Come here, girl,” the Emperor said, putting the power of the Force into his command. Unable to resist, the girl walked out of the tree line until she stood, small and vulnerable, before him. With preternatural speed the Emperor drew, ignited, and slashed at the girl with his lightsaber, but Vader had sensed his Master’s intent and moved with greater speed, igniting his own blade and intercepting his Master’s blow before it could land. The girl, under the sway of the Emperor’s power, seemed scarcely to notice the danger. She simply stood there, staring vacantly, her face aglow in the red light of the crossed blades. The Emperor’s mouth twisted in a snarl, and Vader felt his power gathering. Behind Vader, Deez raised his rifle and aimed it at Vader’s back, but Vader stretched his free hand back and unleashed a blast of power that lifted the guardsman from his feet and flung him into the trees. Branches cracked audibly under the impact of Deez’s body. Vader and his Master stared at each other across the sizzling glow of their crossed blades. “Has it come to this?” his Master said. He sounded calm, almost resigned, but not at all surprised. The tone surprised Vader. “Forgive me, Master,” he said, and deactivated his blade. “I think the girl can be of use to us.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The girl, Drua, takes them to very home and does everything she can to help them. After everything was said and done, Palpatine orders Vader to kill her and everyone in her village. And Vader does it. Not because he wants it. but because he’s too apathetic to care. Too trapped in his toxic relationship with Palpatine to see things for what they really were.

“There’s work for that yet, my friend,” the Emperor said, nodding at the hilt of Vader’s blade.

“Master?”

“The villagers, Lord Vader. Drua and her people. We can’t allow so many witnesses to live. I’ll wait for you here.”

Vader looked from his Master to the dark mouth of the mine inside of which Drua and the rest of the villagers had fled. He felt the Emperor’s eyes on him, the intensity of the gaze, the weight of his expectations, and Vader knew that the day’s events had been only half about depleting a rebel movement before it could grow. They had also, as Vader had suspected, been about testing him, forcing him to face the ghosts of his past and exorcise them forever and fully. He saw that more clearly now; saw, too, that his Master was right to administer the test. It also explained why his Master had shown so little of his true power throughout the day. Perhaps he’d wanted Vader to rely on himself to overcome the challenges they’d faced. Or perhaps he’d wanted to seem weaker than he was, to draw out any treacherous ambitions Vader may have held. “I hear and I obey, Master,” Vader said. He ignited his lightsaber and strode toward the cave, his mind drifting back to another day, a day when he strode into the Jedi Temple filled with nothing but younglings. He’d slaughtered them then, and he would slaughter the Twi’leks now. His Master’s laughter followed him into the cave, and it lingered in his mind, louder even than the screams of the Twi’leks as they began to die by his blade. When it was done, he returned to his Master’s side. “Well done, old friend,” Darth Sidious said. He wiped his hands, as if to clean them of dirt. “And now let’s move on to more important things.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The only time Vader cared enough to influence his behavior was with Luke. All the other times, there were a glimpse of something – of the old Anakin – like when he saw C3PO or even Ahsoka. But not enough for him empathize with people.

Qui-Gon had a interesting theory about this. He believed Anakin – to survive – had to bury that side of him so Vader could exist. An Anakin who cares cannot be Vader. He buried all the good things about Anakin.

“Master, is Darth Vader Anakin?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. “Although the Anakin you and I knew is imprisoned by the dark side. […]The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

As terrible as life as Vader is, facing Anakin Skywalker’s decisions and living with them would be much, much harder. That’s why only when Luke demonstrated his unconditional love that Anakin allowed himself to reemerge.

Vader saw his son crying, and knew it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beheld. It intensified, momentarily, Vader’s own sense of anguish—to his crimes, now, he added guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brought him to mind of the way he used to look—striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he’d looked once. And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend … and how that friendship had turned. Turned, he knew not how—but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until … hold. These were memories he wanted none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back … no. This boy had pulled him from that pit—here, now, with this act. This boy was good. The boy was good, and the boy had come from him—so there must have been good in him, too. He smiled up again at his son, and for the first time, loved him. And for the first time in many long years, loved himself again, as well. [James Kahn. Return of the Jedi]

Vader didn’t hate the world. He hated himself.

And because of that he bury everything that was remotely good and positive about himself as deep as he could. So his behavior, his lack of empathy wasn’t about him being sadistic. He was simply too broken and trapped in a deeply abusive relationship to care for the world around him.

#ask #anon #anakin skywalker #sw meta #darth vader #meta: anakin #txt

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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Initially, Obi-Wan thought that sleep would assuredly allude him.

Perhaps he underestimated the trust and affect his troops had on him and how exhausted he really was because he slept fairly soundly through the night.

He was still surrounded by troopers by the time he woke up, although he was fairly certain that there significantly less numbers of them. Although it was a bit of a challenge with position, Obi-Wan tried to meditate a little before the next disaster would inevitably occur. It was only a tad successful as he kept going back to thinking about Anakin. And right now he just…couldn’t.

Afterwards, he got dressed, complete with his old armor pieces and left the barracks to get to work.

“Greetings, Master Kenobi,” Cin Drallig nodded at him as Obi-Wan walked onto the bridge. There wasn’t many present; it was mostly a skeleton crew, but they paid him little heed. Next to the battle master stood a clone trooper from the meeting before, one of Obi-Wan’s 212th boys, Menace.

“General,” Menace welcomed.

“Master Drallig, Menace,” Obi-Wan nodded at the both of them.

“The boys and I have encrypted and encoded a way for you to get a message to the other Jedi generals that are scattered across the galaxy,” Menace explained as he pulled up a map of the galaxy, planets already highlighted. Obi-Wan presumed that was where jedi and their troops had been positioned. “As long as we know where they are stationed, we can get it to them and encode it so only a Jedi would be able to access it. We made this option just in case there are any activated chipped troopers around or natborns who are loyal to the Empire.”

“That was rather fortuitous of you,” Cin glanced at the trooper, curiously but he projected gratitude, something a little odd from the battlemaster but it was no less appreciated.

“Just precautions sir.”

“Alright, we have to figure out exactly what information we need to send to the others,” Obi-Wan said as he followed Cin and Menace down the halls which ended up being to an office. Was it his? At this point, he wasn’t really paying attention and most of the office rooms looked virtually all the same. This one had been recently packed with communications equipment and a holotable for good measure.

“The basics will be key,” Cin replied with a hum as he closed the door behind them and tied back his longer hair. “We will have to divide it up between what to do when running from activated soldiers or what to do when communications have been shut down so they can’t receive the orders to active the chips.”

“Constrain natborn officers, no communications aside from jedi, which will come up in about three days,” Obi-Wan listed.

“That is a fair chunk of time,” Menace admitted as started to open up and turn on the machinery around the room, as well as the data blockers for outside communications, just incase someone would try to butt in on the networks. “Can they avoid the Empire for that long? We don’t know which forces that the emperor has now or how quickly they will go after those they cannot get a hold of.”

“If they come across conflict, leave immediately,” Cin suggested as made his spot off to the side. “Getting too close to activated chips will active any clones they are around. But we did warn many jedi. The Empire Forces have to be fairly diminished if they understood those warnings. I can’t imagine the new government is completely on it’s feet yet.”

That was true. Even though the Republic had been slowly shifting into something less democratic over the course of the war, it was still a fairly big change, and a lot of things would have to be restructured. There was also the issue, for the Empire, of those who would fight back against its creation or not agree with it. That may buy them some time, he mused.

“But we do need to plan quick, because I’m sure it won’t be long before they are organized and mobilized enough to chase us,” Obi-Wan added, sitting down in one of the chairs next to Menace. In front of him was a little desk area. “If they haven’t realized that Kamino specifically isn’t responding because of this, they will figure it out soon.”

“How about we make a list?” Menace suggested, his gaze flickering between the two masters.

Obi-Wan nodded and his hand shuffled around the desk to find a data pad. Putting it in front of him, he grabbed a utensil and created a list.

“Alright, so first and foremost, the clones are chipped, proximity to activated chips activates others. Activation can also be verbal but only from the Sith. Block all communications available to clones,” Cin started quickly as Obi-Wan immediately wrote down the thoughts on the datapad.

“We can send Healer Che’s information on where the chips are as well, if anyone has the equipment or skills to start taking them out,” Obi-Wan added, the pencil flipping around his fingers to momentarily point at the battlemaster. They both nodded in response.

“Two; the Republic is gone, an Empire has rose. We are being hunted and killed as we are claimed to be traitors. Confine any officers loyal to the Empire until further notice,” Cin continued

“If you have inactivated clones, keep them away from conflict with others, due to the proximity thing,” Menace included, flicking on a few more nozzles and switches.

“If you are around activated clones, get away as quickly as possible, stay low or get away from them if you can,” Cin added, eyeing Menace, carefully. The clone’s presence filled up with a moment of quiet grief and disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault sir,” Menace swallowed harshly but shook his head. “We can’t save anyone yet without a real plan.”

“Contact,” Cin started up again, a little hesitant to keep going as he looked between the two. “Contact will be reestablished within a couple of days, once we get to Kamino. If you have a long range holotable, use it, but keep your comm on you. There will be a coded message to indicate if communications come from us.”

They paused.

“I think…I think those are some good basics, hopefully they can survive until then,” Obi-Wan sighed, jotting down the last of the notes.

“Battle master Drallig and I can get these coded and sent out fairly quickly,” Menace said, gently taking the datapad from Obi-Wan’s hands.

“It’s a start,” he echoed.

***

“I believe it is about time we talk,” Padme said, her face flat with one hand rested on her stomach. Her greeting was desperate and although not exactly unkind, it wasn’t very patient either. Obi-Wan glanced around and let out a silent sigh. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation. One that he didn’t particularly want to have.

He had been working with the other masters and clones to figure out where to go and what to do next for some time. He knew this conversation was coming. He was just dreading it.

Obi-Wan just swallowed and nodded in defeat as he turned to face the pregnant woman. “Alright. But I think it would be best if we would keep this conversation rather private. The 501st survivors and much of the 212thhave been following me like ghosts and they certainly don’t need to hear this.”

Padme’s expression was something of confusion, but she consented, and they found themselves in Obi-Wan’s former office. It was still technically his office, he supposed, but others had been using it since the evacuation. One could tell by all the paperwork and things that cluttered it more than it already was, the things that he knew were not his or Cody’s. He locked the door behind them and let Padme sit on the cot in the corner. He dragged a chair over to her to sit himself, although he could not find a position that was comfortable.

“I suppose we can start with what happened with Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, a bit quietly. He did not want to talk about this right now, not at all. He wasn’t ready for this; he was hardly wrapping his own head around what had happened. His heart clenched harshly in his chest, and he was sure his throat would close up. Taking a shaking deep breath, he tried to continue to speak. “What, exactly, do you already know?”

“Ahsoka called me, telling me there was an attack on the Jedi Temple,” Padme confessed, shaking her head in disbelief. “She told me that Anakin had turned to the Dark Side, that he was killing younglings and leading brainwashed clones to kill everyone.”

Her tone was incredulous and unconvinced, not that Obi-Wan could exactly blame her. He was not even sure if he believed it, and he was there. It seemed impossible. He knew Anakin struggled with some of the jedi tenants, especially that of attachment, which Obi-Wan had tried to talk to him about, to reach out. But Anakin had been closing off more and more as of late. That didn’t mean he could have ever have seen this coming.

Perhaps he should have. Was he so blind?

“That…that would be accurate,” Obi-Wan choked out but did his best to keep his voice constant and steady with as much as patience as he could lacing it.

Padme stood up suddenly but then wavered and leaned against the wall for support. He leaned forward, ready to catch her if she should fall. She steadied herself and straightened her back to stare down at him. “That is absolutely ridiculous,” she announced with such confidence even he almost believed it. “And you know it, Obi-Wan! He is your friend, and he would never do such a thing; the Jedi…”

“If you start blaming my people while we are fleeing for our lives, please refrain,” his own voice continued to be soft but there was a steel bone underlaying it, that made no room for challenge.

“Anakin would never do such a thing,” Padme repeated firmly and shook her head. He closed himself off to her in the Force, he didn’t want to know what she was feeling. He wasn’t sure if he could handle her feelings along with his own. “He has been worried and stressed but that is only because of…”

“Because of what?”

“He’s been having nightmares…” she started slowly, eyeing Obi-Wan as if that would give her some insight, some answers on what was happening. “About me, dying in childbirth.”

“Nightmares,” Obi-Wan repeated numbly. “That is what he was so worked up about? He didn’t come to me or anyone else about them. And he knows how dangerous pregnancies are in this sort of situation. He should have known to talk to the healers about it.”

He should have talked to the healers. At least doctors, someone. Generally speaking, people didn’t just die in childbirth, not on Coruscant, certainly not a prominent senator. No one would ever deny her prenatal care, no matter who the father was.

Even if the father was a jedi.

“He was probably afraid,” Padme glanced away.

It was as if Anakin didn’t know anything of the Jedi at all. The Jedi would have never turned Padme away for pregnancy care or information, Force around, the Jedi wouldn’t turn anyone away who came to their steps in need of help with pregnancy. Force sensitive or not.

“We are getting off track,” Obi-Wan shook his head with a small sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. He just wanted… honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. He supposed he wanted this to all be his own nightmare, one he could just wake up from. One where none of this was real. “Padme, I don’t know how to convince you of what Anakin has done,” he continued. “He led an attack to kill everyone in the Temple, he led an army of brainwashed clones. He murdered Temple Guards and younglings just trying to escape the battle. He fought mewith the intent to kill, rambling about the failings of the jedi,” Obi-Wan stressed, leaning forward. “Master Drallig said he called himself Darth Vader which let me tell you, is a Sith name. All I could feel in him was desperation and fury.”

“You’re wrong,” Padme insisted, her eyes blazing into something so passionate, it nearly hurt to look at. Her loyalty, although her perhaps commendable to an extent, was difficult to work with. Difficult when she wouldn’t believe the truth. He knew it was hard to swallow. He was still in that process. “He is good, there is good in him, of course there is. Something else must be at play.”

“Something else?” Obi-Wan asked, his own voice echoing confusion. He couldn’t imagine much else being at play, his former padawan, his brother, had intended on murdering everyone in the Temple, all those that thought he was their family. All those that thought he cared about them. He had nearly succeeded. If Cody’s chip hadn’t been activated when and where it was… Obi-Wan nearly shuddered at the prospect. He sighed and shook his head again. “I love Anakin. And even after all that he has done I still love him; I will always love him. But I am not blind to what he has become now. I was blind before, not seeing it; only seeing what I wanted to, the good person I thought he could be, the person I thought he was.”

“He is that good person,” she persisted with a sound not open for debate.

Obi-Wan was tired, even the several hours of last night’s sleep would not erase all of the time he had been awake, active, fighting for his life and the lives of those around him.

“Tell that to the younglings that he cut down in front of his former padawan,” Obi-Wan’s hand waved out in emphasis. He hated bringing Ahsoka into this but Padme cared about the young Togruta, probably nearly as much as Anakin used to as well. “Or the 501st troopers who were forced to lead an attack on the Temple, on the Jedi, against their own free will.”

The young woman just stared at him, and he knew that she didn’t believe him. He didn’t think she would ever actually believe him without seeing it for herself.

The fact that Anakin, of all people, would lead a forced brainwashed army to fight people they never would have in their right minds seemed ludicrous.

“Okay, we are at an impasse,” Obi-Wan slumped back a little in his chair. He took a commlink out of his pocket and let his fingers sweep over it, absentmindedly. “Perhaps a break from this line of conversation may be beneficial,” he said slowly, giving Padme the time to sit down on the cot once again. “I think…we need to also talk about your pregnancy,” Obi-Wan added slowly. Padme placed a hand on her belly, protectively.

“You mentioned…you mentioned I could die from this,” Padme replied slowly, her eyes meeting his in a massive flurry of concern and fear. The conversation was not over about Anakin but for now, for now what he had said would have to do. He didn’t know how much longer he could try to help her in that scenario. “So, Anakin was right, I’m going to die in childbirth.”

“It’s not that simple. There is a lot that is included,” Obi-Wan shook his head. How to explain something that he only knew the basics of? Perhaps a professional was best to be in order “Look. Let me call my friend Bant. She is a healer, and she will be able to answer most, if not all, of your questions.”

Without waiting for an answer, he sent his friend a message who near immediately contacted him back, relieved that he had found their wayward patient. Apparently, Padme was not supposed to be out of the medbay. Obi-Wan imagined they would want to monitor her, considering her pregnancy and situation. His comm beeped again.

“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know who the other side of the we was but at this point, he would take all the help he could get.

Those few minutes were the most awkward ones Obi-Wan could remember.

The Mon Calamari walked in with another healer trailed in behind her and Obi-Wan could not even help the sigh of relief. At last. “Hello Obi-Wan, senator,” Bant greeted, giving them both a nod, her large dark eyes brimming with sympathy and kindness. Obi-Wan would forever be baffled and astounded at the amount of love and compassion his friend could hold. “Senator, my name is Bant. I am a healer. This is Healer Jayden; she specializes in pregnancies.”

“You have special doctors for pregnancies in the jedi?” Padme asked, a little taken back.

“Of course,” the doctor nodded as Obi-Wan got up to give them both seats. He ended up standing off a little to the side, often finding himself leaning against the wall for support. “Believe it or not, the jedi are not celibate,” she pointed out, even though Padme’s glance looked a bit skeptic. “And although it isn’t extremely common, jedi can and do get pregnant.”

“They do?” Padme echoed.

“Of course. Force Sensitivity isn’t always passed down, but it is more likely if one or more of the parents have it,” Jayden explained, her voice smooth and calm. It could not be said that Jedi didn’t know when they were supposed to be healers. He could only imagine how determined they must be in such an art. “Pregnancies involving force sensitivity in general can be quite difficult, but we should really talk about your case specifically.”

“Is it…different?”

“I have been briefed on a few things,” Healer Jayden said, giving Bant a quick glance as if for confirmation. Obi-Wan wondered how much she had been told about the situation, about the father. “The father of your children is former Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, is it not?”

“Current Jedi Knight,” Padme corrected, her voice laced with bitter undertones and eyes narrowed. Something she had picked up from Anakin, he supposed. “Unless the Jedi have kicked him out for loving someone.”

“The Jedi do not typically, kick people out,” Bant continued, her voice just as relaxed and mellow. She was taking this very well. Obi-Wan nearly felt like shaking Anakin or someonewho should know better for all the things misinterpreted, deliberately or otherwise. “Not for loving anyone or getting people pregnant.”

“Yes,” Padme confirmed, her voice subdued. “He is the father.”

“Alright. So, the father has an incredibly high number of midiclorians in his body, which is how one can determine how force sensitive an individual is. He is a very high number, more than anyone else and is very, very strong in the Force,” Jayden explained, patiently. She spoke in chunks, probably to better allow Padme to follow what she was saying.

“What does that mean for the baby? That it will be force-sensitive?”

The healer nodded but her expression was a bit grave. “In your case, certainly. Because if they hadn’t, you would probably be dead already.”

And… Obi-Wan hadn’t expected her to be so blunt. Padme stared wide-eyed.

“Skywalker is so strong in the Force that it is killing you, not to mention the darkness that is practically permeating you,” the healer continued and although Obi-Wan could feel a tad of concern with it, she did not show it outright, rather keeping a cool presence of security. “The only reason that you are still alive and as strong as you are, currently, is because the two babies inside of you are also extremely force-sensitive and are keeping you alive. It is…very complex and seems a bit paradoxical, and difficult to explain when it comes to the specifics, as well as the ins and outs of what is happening in your body.”

“So, I will not survive this birth,” Padme realized.

“The odds are not fantastic,” Jayden replied truthfully with a small frown. “But the only way you can survive is with a Jedi Healer’s help. If you stayed on the planet, you would not have survived the birth and I doubt anyone would have understood why. But we can and we will help you, Padme,” she said, taking the woman’s hand gently, curling her partially translucent fingers around the younger senator’s. “You can trust us that we will do everything in our power to make sure that you survive to see your children grow up.”

“What are the odds?” Padme whispered, staring at her hands.

“It is difficult to say,” Jayden admitted, candidly. “We’ve never had a child from someone as powerful as Skywalker before. Best case scenario you will be out of commission, maybe even comatose, for some time while your body regenerates its strength.”

If it can, went unspoken.

With her free hand, Padme brought it up to cover her mouth, letting out a shaky breath, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

“I think you could use some rest, senator,” Bant advised, speaking up for the first time. Although Healer Jayden did most of the talking, Obi-Wan was still grateful for his friend’s presence. “I think we have a small room near the medical bay that we can use for you,” she added and glanced at Obi-Wan. “Would you mind getting her there?”

He didn’t think, just nodded. With a second thought, he didn’t really want to, he didn’t want to talk with her right now. He was just so tired and there was much to do but he knew it was right. Walking over, he helped Padme up and walked her out of the door. He led her through the halls towards the medical bay, appreciative for the silence.

He didn’t need an argument right now.

As they got to the small room, he unlocked and opened the door. “I will have some of my handmaidens come and bring things from the ship,” she whispered.

He hadn’t realized that she had brought anyone. Oh, he hoped she hadn’t brought Jar Jar. He didn’t mind the Gungan, almost liked him really, but he had a tendency to get into trouble and that was the last thing they needed.

He was about to leave when she pulled him back to look at her. “There is good in Anakin, Obi-Wan,” she announced, although her voice stayed rather quiet, just firm. “You must see it. And I will prove it to you,” her tone reflected her eyes, something fiery and passionate.

This was always going to be a tragedy, he realized suddenly.

There was very little he could say to that. He didn’t believe her but then again, he was trying hard not to think of Anakin right now. His thoughts were dominated with the survival of his people, both jedi and clone.

He had to put them first.

“Okay,” he croaked.

And then whisked himself away as quickly as he could without making it seem like he was literally running from her.

He was entirely exhausted.

The talk with Padme had last longer than he had anticipated and honestly, all he wanted was to sleep. Could he though? How much was there left to do? Then again, at this point, he wasn’t sure if there was anything specifically, he could do, aside from perhaps trying to research? Maybe?

His brain just felt full. He wasn’t entirely sure if he would be of any help.

“There you are sir,” the familiar voice and tonal individuality of Boil registered to Obi-Wan’s ears nearly a beat too late. He turned to see the clone walking up to him, a small youngling on arm.

Waxer was the one who was outspoken about loving little ones but anyone who knew anything about Boil knew he loved being around them just as much.

The thought made Obi-Wan smile and his chest warm.

Presence of people that he cared about, that perhaps cared about him, ones that he didn’t constantly have to fight tooth and nail with, were something of a relief. Just a presence to fall into that wasn’t consistently looking for lies or secrets or to tear his head off.

“How are you, Boil?” he asked, trying for a smile.

It must not have worked very well because the clone gave him an odd glance but, in the end, he just shrugged. “I’m alright, just taking this young’in to the modified creche,” he explained, gesturing to the young jedi child on his hip. “He accidently got lost and I’m bringing him back before my allotted hours of sleep.”

“Allotted hours?”

How late was it?

“Sir, it’s quite late,” Boil pointed out, answering his unasked question for him, and gesturing lightly for the general to follow. He did so without pause or thought. It was interesting, he believed, how easily and unthinkingly he would follow them. Perhaps it was foolishness but perhaps it was just trust and faith. He was in a rather short supply of that these past few days. “The daytime officers and workers are getting ready for sleep. The Jedi are hunkering down in the creche places and barracks along with the children and troopers. I never realized how cuddly Jedi could be when they sleep together,” he added with a bit of a half laugh.

The child laughed alongside with him, although a bit louder and fuller.

“We slept in piles a lot,” Obi-Wan replied.

“We like to do that too,” Boil shrugged to keep a hold on the little one hanging from him. “It’s good that your sleeping arrangements are around the men, it’s good for morale, especially at a time like this. Everyone is a little freaked out, I think it helps there is someone they can trust around during those times.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. Who taught Boil manipulation tactics?

He paused, nearly tripping at the realization.

Oh right. Hedid.

Accidently, of course. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was giving lectures or classes on how to manipulate or negotiate yourself out of situations. But still, his behavior would be seeming to be biting him in the butt now, as his troopers were now using it against him.

Part of him almost felt impressed.

“Right,” Obi-Wan muttered.

The child hanging off of Boil, giggled knowingly. As the two of them dropped the child off at one of the places set aside for the children, Boil offered to escort him to the barracks for sleep. Obi-Wan tried to back out of it but Boil was rather adamant and then….

And then Rex showed up.

And Obi-Wan knew he was completely was doomed.

He couldn’t say no to Rex right now, not with what his troops had gone through.

“Hello, general,” Rex greeted with a bit of a wavering smile. He was trying hard. Obi-Wan suspected he had spent most of his day with the survivors of the 501st. He knew it wasn’t pretty and they were trying very hard to make sense of what had happened to them. “People have been wondering where you have been.”

“Is that so?” Obi-Wan hummed in response.

“Yes, the 501stsurvivors have been curious to know if you are coming back tonight,” he added in, thinking himself rather sly. Survivors; wasn’t that what they all were now. Survivors of a genocide, survivors of brainwashed slavery, survivors of being unmade into a vacant body.

“As a matter of fact, Boil was just escorting me to the barracks,” Obi-Wan shot back. He kept falling into this trap, he knew it. But at least this time he would not be caught floundering like the day before. “It has been quite the day, full of… colorful conversations.”

“Oh? Who did you talk to?”

“I had to have to talk about Senator Amidala and her pregnancy.”

Obi-Wan could practically just feel Rex’s stomach drop. “You…you know about that sir?”

“I probably knew about it before you did,” he muttered under his breath. As if Anakin could keep a secret like that from him, as if Padme could. Any Jedi that came across her would have known; would have sensed her pregnancy. He, of course, was the one who knew it was Anakin’s child because honestly, who’s else could it have been. But louder, instead he tried, “Yes. I’ve known about Anakin and Padme for quite some time. It is not difficult to sense her pregnancy. I do not know why Anakin thought he was being subtle or discreet. And you, captain, well, I think you could work on your acting skills a little.”

The captain just blushed hard. “My apologies sir.”

“No worries. It hardly matters,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “But talking with her, about what we had to, was rather exhausting and I will, quite frankly, be a bit glad to get some rest before the next day comes about. Because soon, we will be at Kamino and a whole new situation will arise.”

“We don’t know how much time it will be before the Empire comes after us,” Boil realized with a deep frown.

“So, we should get as much rest as we can until then,” Obi-Wan nodded at the two of them as they neared the barracks. “Because who knows how much real rest we will get once the new conflicts arise.”

***

It was the middle of the night when he had heard it.

Obi-Wan had been stuck in the near middle of a pile once again, surrounded on all sides by mostly clone troopers, the main force being the de-chipped 212th and the 501st survivors, with a few others they had rescued within the Temple before and during the siege. He could make out Inkspot somewhere, leaning against Trapper and Gearshift.

Many of the survivors, mostly those of the 501st specifically, had horrible nightmares, even so soon after the events. He couldn’t blame them; it was a horrible ordeal they had gone through. He tried to shield them the best he could, to help them sleep with less nightmares. He did his best. He didn’t dare take a look into what they contained, he feared they would just feed into his own.

For some reason or another, the scratching woke him up.

Shifting his body up carefully so he wouldn’t awake the troopers surrounding him, he glanced around at the barracks for the sound. No way he was just hearing it in his mind.

There. Some movement in the corner.

Carefully he cleared himself of snuggling troopers and got up.

Obi-Wan moved through the bodies, making his way to the edge of the pile of clone troopers until he found one of the 501st in the corner, frantically trying to scrub his armor. Not just his armor, the jedi realized, but the blue paint off of it. And there was quite a bit of it.

The trooper nearly jumped feet in the air when he realized Obi-Wan had sat next to him, his eyes wide in fear and panic.

“At ease,” he assured quietly but it did very little to ease the trooper’s anxiety. Obi-Wan reached out into the Force towards his presence.

Calmpeacesafe

It helped more than words had.

“Are you alright, Graffiti?”

The trooper looked at him, a little surprised. “You…know who I am? Y-You remember?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. Would you like to tell me what is going on?” he asked gently.

The trooper swallowed, staring down at his armor before tearing his eyes away. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes on it for more than a moment.

“Everyone has nightmares, it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I do, sometimes,” Graffiti admitted, hesitant with his voice choked on tears. “It’s not even the fighting or the war or anything. I just see blank faces, marching blue, so much blue. People…people always think when terrible things happen, when blood is shed, everything is in a haze of red because blood is red. But for me…for me it was a haze of blue. Not just any blue. The 501st blue. It’s…its supposed to be something proud of, a color we should be proud of.”

Obi-Wan just waited patiently.

“I woke up shaking this morning,” he continued, his voice quivering with tears already accumulating in his eyes as he shoved the piece of armor that was in his arms away. “It was so bad I couldn’t even put my armor on. One of my brothers had to do it for me. But even then, I…. I felt so awful. I kept making excuses to go to the head and then my brothers kept making excuses for me, just in case.”

“You do not have to wear it if you do not wish to,” Obi-Wan replied gently. “Things, I imagine, are going to be different now.”

“It’s…it’s not the armor itself,” he confessed, staring down at the piece that he was holding. “I don’t think it is the armor. It’s…it’s the color,” he looked confused when he glanced at the jedi, as if he wasn’t entirely sure why he was saying this or even the reasoning behind it. “Every time I see it, I keep getting sick. I keep remembering when we were marching towards the Temple, all the blue of the amor, creating a sea of soldiers, all in time and not even…not even hesitating on what we were going to do.”

“You couldn’t move.”

“I couldn’t even think until afterwards,” Graffiti admitted the quiver in his voice growing. “I just wanted to scream. Even after we got into the Temple, I remember everything but…it’s all in this horrible blue haze that I choke on. Something I was once proud to bear, a color that I was proud of, was twisted into something horrible and evil. I know it doesn’t make any sense but…”

“Sometimes things like this don’t make sense to others or even ourselves,” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet and calm as he looked over at the trooper. The latter had a difficult time meeting his gaze, but he finally had, tears welled up in his eyes, certainly obscuring his vision.

“I think I would rather have no paint, just be a blank set of armor like a no-name shiny again before I wear something that has been so twisted,” he whispered, running a hand along his helmet, half scrubbed of blue paint. “And isn’t that awful? I was brainwashed into being no one and now, I want to go back to being a no one again, just…slightly different type of no one.”

The jedi’s heart shuttered in his chest.

“Would you mind waiting here for a moment?” he asked, placing a hand gently on the soldier’s shoulder. “I will be right back. I think…I think I have something.”

Graffiti looked quite confused but nodded.

Obi-Wan stood up and made his way through the maze of people, towards the door. As he got to the halls, his pace quickened. There weren’t particularly many people around, but a few had caught him gliding through the halls quickly, often giving him looks that made him want to shrink back into the pile in the barracks.

Some did not seem happy to see him out and about.

He got to a storage room and opened the door. Upon finding what he was looking for, he grabbed it and hurried back. Obi-Wan came back, worked his way through the maze of sleeping men again, and set down a large can on the ground as quietly as he could. The trooper just stared at it, wide-eyed, a bit confused and certainly a lot speechless.

“It’s yours, if you want it.”

Graffiti took a moment to realize what it was. At first, he didn’t look entirely sure, like it might be a trap, but it took only a minute before he burst into a quiet sob, covering his face with his hands.

“It may not stop the nightmares,” Obi-Wan explained quietly. “But know that you will always have a place with us.”

Eventually, when he got a little more control of himself, Obi-Wan could make out a nod from him.

“I think I might need something new,” Graffiti rasped out, just barely.

“Perhaps you should make a visit to one of the creche groups,” Obi-Wan offered, shooting him a quick, warm, glance. “They are full of ideas. And they would love to see you.”

Graffiti met his gaze, his eyebrows scrunched together. He didn’t verbally reply but the jedi master had a feeling he would anyways.

Obi-Wan spent the rest of the night with him, quietly scrubbing off the blue paint and replacing it with shimmering gold.

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tvpeongsstuff · 3 years

Text

Supreme Emperor Obiwan Kenobi

New story idea.

After Mustafar Obiwan and vader do not have another run in for a few years. But, the first time they do Obiwan makes one of his distract my enemies while fighting comments. Vader gets distracted and loses again and Obiwan runs away. It keeps happening.

At first vader does not realize what this means until he and one of his henchmen (inquisitors?) get into a fight with Obiwan and Obiwan starts flirting with the henchman like he does when he is fighting his enemies and turns to vader and flirts with vader like he does with his enemies.

Anakin Skywalker, Obiwan Kenobi's padawan/brother/son, realizes that he is now just another sith obsessed with Obiwan. And, that to Obiwan he is no different than Ventress, or Dooku, or Grievous!

He doesn't handle that knowledge well. He goes even more crazy looking for Obiwan. He cannot handle being just anything to Obiwan. He starts looking for ways to increase his power tenfold. He starts training like crazy.

He pays top dollar for holorecordings (old or new no questions asked) of Obiwan fighting against other darksiders, criminals, and imperials. There are a few new videos. If any of them get in a lucky strike, vader makes them fight him. Inquisitors, the criminal underworld, and officers start getting chopped to pieces or killed. The imperials that survive get cybernetic parts. There are also a lot of older videos of Obiwan fighting with other Jedi, especially Anakin Skywalker. Those were supposed to be destroyed after the fall of the Republic. They make him feel...

Unbeknownst to both vader and sidious, the rebellion realize what's happening and start using vader's obsession to get vader to turn his sith fury on the complacent core worlds. They were the ones comming the info lines saying that Obiwan was on X planet or Y planet. Then when vader and his troops show up, they would broadcast the carnage. And, they carry out covert operations on other planets as they know those planets are vaderfree. For example, creating a spy network on Naboo, moving ammunitions through planet A.

The Rebellion recruits Obiwan to their cause. Bail reaches out to him, tells him the plan. They need him to distract vader. It's twofold: They don't want vader getting suspicious and they need vader to keep destroying coreworlds. He needs to be filmed looking heroic, walking through rich districts, passing by Core senators mistresses second homes, in the same are as a new important imperial's kept man (misters?). He is going to be their Katniss Everdeen (an ancient hero). People are going to get hurt but every jedi knows that the good of the many outweighs the good of the few or the one.

It works! If there is a rumor that Obiwan is on a planet, vader shows up with squadrons and tear the area apart, torture people for information, etc. This backfires on him because he razes so many places the empire can't completely censor the videos before they get out. People stop calling in as much, no matter how good the bounty.

Palpatine is at first happy with vader's obsession. He's all, "Give in to the power of the dark side" and he loves cyborgs. But, vader is single minded in his pursuit. It's like he transferred all of the love he had for Obiwan into this chase. Palpatine knows how much Anakin loved Obiwan so...on the one hand let vader find him and kill him, cementing palpatine's rule and ensuring vader's complete loyalty. On the other hand, vader is wrecking core planets and undermining his hold right now.

Sidious orders vader to stop and concentrate on other things. Vader does not listen. He receives a holo showing Obiwan on Naboo visiting Padme's memorial. He freaks out, goes to Naboo, takes the entire 501st and the 212th. He questions the queen. He rips apart members of Naboo's ruling class. He breaks public monuments. His purge troopers pull people out of their homes and beat citizens in the street. All of this is being broadcast galaxy wide.

Naboo's gentry are comming palpatine on his private line complaining and asking him to control his maniac. The rebel broadcast and the regular broadcast are wondering if this new empire is going to keep infringing on the rights of citizens? Are the people hurt by the rampaging vader going to have any recourse? Perhaps they should return to a republic? Sidious can't let this stand. He looks weak. Vader is destroying his home planet and ruining his image.

He leaves Coruscant and goes to Naboo. This was all part of a plan by the rebellion and it worked perfectly. They sneak Obiwan into Coruscant. They needed both vader and the emperor off planet so that no one powerful would be around to sense Obiwan. The rebellion are going to rally support to their cause, build up the capital's spy network, and film holos of Obiwan on planet to play at a later date to embarrass the empire.

On Naboo, vader is mourning at Padme's tomb when sidious catches up to him. The rebellion have set up holo cameras to spy on vader's every move. Breha told them to set up low tech motion detector cameras at the tomb. When the emperor comes in he berates vader and shoots force lightning at him while Vader writhes on the ground and screams in pain. It all gets captured on holo.

S: "I do not care about these morons, Lord Vader. But, you need to get yourself together and stop embarrassing me. Use your grief to channel the power of the dark side!"

Vader (gasping and panting): Yes my master

S: You have been letting Kenobi make a fool of you. Perhaps he is better than you? Perhaps you do not truly want to kill him? Did you forget how he turned on you and cut you down? Do you not want your revenge?

Vader: Yes I want my revenge

Sidious: Good good apprentice. When next you meet pull on the dark side of the force. Show Kenobi what you are capable of. Let him be the one to suffer.

V: Yes master

S: Good we leave at once for Coruscant. Gather your men.

Meanwhile Obiwan had met with senators and businessmen sympathetic to the rebel cause. He's gone down to the lower levels and spread hope amongst the poor and downtrodden. He's used the force to heal. He's filmed at the barracks and the senate. Finally, he's at the jedi temple. Obiwan has been making poignant propaganda films. Now, he has to make one about the fall of the republic and the murder of the jedi. He does. It's heart wrenching.

He talks about life in the jedi temple. He talks about the camaraderie and love all the jedi are raised with, how he didn't realize people thought jedi were baby stealers. He explains that the jedi only took unwanted children, or children whose parents could not help them with their powers. Every jedi who wanted to could leave the order. No one was kept by force. All jedi were educated on their culture and traditions. And, he talks about that final day, the murder of the jedi in the temple, the slaughter of the younglings. . He talks about finding all their bodies after, the futile search for survivors, the desperate he harboured. He cries.

The rebellion thought that they would have more time. The emperor was supposed to stay on Naboo as is his wont and make nice with his fellow men. They did not expect him to come back immediately with vader, two starships full of clone purge troopers, and 7 inquisitors. They realize they cannot get Obiwan off planet. It's too late. Vader and sidious have sensed his presence.

Obiwan makes a decision. He could die trying to escape or he could make a heroic last stand. He has the rebellion set up holo cameras all around the area and go into hiding. He tells them to broadcast his last recording. Hopefully it will rally people to their side when he diies. They have to get themselves to safety. Obiwan knows he has to push vader into killing him quickly. He hides all of his most sensitive information deep behind his strongest shields. Then he meditates. He is as ready as he'll ever be. He has to trust in the force.

Sidious knows that this is the perfect PR opportunity. He has to counteract Obiwan's emotional appeal. He sends Vader with all the troops and inquisitors after Obiwan. Vader knows better than to fail him but back up couldn't hurt. Obiwan must die! He also orders all the empires holos to broadcast the fight throughout the galaxy. He goes to the senate and announces that "there have been reports that the jedi terrorist Obiwan Kenobi has been spotted on Coruscant. Not to worry. Not to worry. I have sent Darth Vader to deal with him. At long last we will be rid of the jedi menace and our glorious empire can finally know peace." This is also broadcast throughout the galaxy from the senate cameras.

The fight starts. It's epic. Obiwan battles Vader and the Inquisitors from the jedi temple to the senate rotunda. He knocks out 3 inquisitors and badly injures 2 more. He catches blaster bolts and directs away from him back to his enemies. He keeps flirting, and making jokes and puns. Vader is enraged. He starts fighting horribly. He loses focus and jumps in the way of his inquisitors. (They already know he's obsessed with Obiwan Kenobi and the suspect if one of them land the killing blow vader will destroy them.) He chops off one of vader's hands.

Obiwan: Did I unhand you? That must burn.

Vader becomes apoplectic. How is Obiwan beating him? Again? He remembers what sidious said and starts pulling on the dark side of the force. Vader is literally pulling all of the darkside energy on Coruscant into him. Here's the thing, there is no true dark side force energy. There is only the force that can be used for dark purposes or light purposes. The way the force is used taints the force around the user. Vader is actually pulling the force away from darksiders like the Sith.

Vader begins the drain Coruscant of its dark energy. He pulls the force out of all the inquisitors that surround him, draining them. This knocks all of them unconscious. He needs more power! He pulls on the dark energy around him that has been clouding the force on Coruscant. He pulls even harder. Several weak dark side senators fall unconscious. Dark side users around the planet start passing out. Still Vader needs more power!

Palpatine feels a drain on his powers. Too late he grasps what's happening; he tries to reach out to vader. "Stop! Stop!" he screams, " Stop this at once Lord Vader!" He tries to raise his shields but he and vader share a connection, sneakily placed there by him while vader was still a child. Usually the connection goes one way. He pushes doubts, fears, dreams, and pain on vader and sits back and enjoys the emotional turmoil. Today vader has blasted that connection wide open and is taking all of the force from him. He falls unconscious.

Obiwan Kenobi can see dark energy flowing into vader. Dark energy from teh inquisitors on the ground, dark energy swirling in from the air, an ocean of dark energy coming to him from the senate. Vadear is swarming in dark energy. Obiwan can feel the turmoil, rage, and hate. It feels like....anakin skywalker throwing a tantrum when he didn't get his own way as a child.

Obiwan knows how to deal with this, probably Anakin's biggest darkest tantrum. He opens the bond he has with anakin a little, looks into anakin, puts the right amount of force into his suggestion and says "Sleep." Vader collapses and Obiwan catches him with the force.

The flow of energy into vader immediately starts to slow down. From their connection Obiwan can sense all the people vader has been sucking dry. If vader stops draining them they will wake up, so Obiwan keeps the flow going.

All this time the battalions have mostly been standing by idly. They were ordered to take shots to incapacitate or distract the jedi, unless he somehow won. Then they were to kill him. They start firing immediately. With Obiwan's focus and the energy of all the darkside at his fingertips Obiwan is able to catch every single bolt blast. He starts moving towards the senate following the ocean of darkness, parting bolts in front of him like he is parting water. Some of the troops try to run up to him to fight him but they get caught and stuck. He is floating vader and the inquisitors behind him. The caught troopers start floating along with them also. As they pass, the bolts fire.

In the senate, chaos reigns. A few senators and the emperor have collapsed. Medics have been called for them. On their screens, Jedi master Obiwan Kenobi has bested Darth Vader and his inquisitors. He is walking through the blaster bolts of thousands of troopers. He has proven himself unkillable and now he is coming straight for them. Some of the weaker members of the senate try running away. Others call out to the Coruscant senate guards to protect them. An enterprising member orders the doors sealed. It makes no difference.

Obiwan Kenobi enters the senate. and jumps to the emperor's hover chair. Vader is hovering behind him still but he has left the inquisitors and the clone troopers at the entrance to the senate. The troopers are still firing at him indiscriminately. He is catching the bolts and directing them to the walls. He looks down at the emperor who is being treated by a medidroid, throws the droid away with the force, and closes his eyes for a few seconds. All the cameras are on him. Every household in the galaxy is watching. This is being projected to every screen on every warship. Imperial officers the galaxy over are watching from their posts.

He opens his eyes

Obiwan: By the ancient laws of this senate, and pursuant to charter 9 as set forth in the old republic, I name myself the vice chair of the senate Obiwan Kenobi. Alpha Tango Abera Cadebera Seven Five Thirteen.

There is a pause. Then a flurry of sound as all of the technology in the senate updates at the same time. The ancient code of the senate computers accepts Obiwan's passcode and turns the full power of the senate over to him. All connected systems update also.

Obiwan: Commanders execute order 4. Cancel order 66 and stop shooting.

All the clones stop shooting.

Obiwan: All powers are hereby handed over to me and whatsoever remains of the Jedi order. I declare myself Supreme Emperor Obiwan Kenobi.

Part 2

#Supreme Emperor Obiwan Kenobi #star wars #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #au #star wars fanfic #fixit #post order 66 #obi wan kenobi #darth vader #sheev palpatine #bail organa

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

settle down Home is where you have a warm bed and a warm meal. Naturally, it follows that as the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, Yoda likes to cook for the many people in his care. Or: Five times Yoda cooks for somebody and one time someone cooks for him.

Yoda had been looking forward to this year’s Convergence. He had been sure that this time around, he would have one less Padawan and one more Knight to his lineage, and indeed, Obi-Wan had become a great Knight. Yoda just wished the price hadn’t been so high. He had lost Qui-Gon and Dooku both within weeks. He had kept watch over Dooku’s growing distance to the Order with wary eyes, but his former Padawan was an adult, an old man almost already, and Yoda hadn’t wanted to pretend he held any kind of sway over him. Now he wished he would have pressed for Dooku to stay a little longer. Perhaps meeting Obi-Wan and Anakin properly would have been enough to keep him with the Order. Yoda was sad to see his Padawan go, but he could not linger. He was sure Dooku was going to encourage growth and kindness on his homeworld.

Deep in thought, he walked to the kitchen and opened his fridge. He was supposed to spend the Convergence with the lineage of a Padawan who had died already a hundred years ago. Yoda had made it a habit to spend every year with a different branch of his family, but this year’s circumstances forced him to switch around his cycle a little. He was glad Feemor had reached out to Obi-Wan. The two would benefit from supporting one another and little Anakin Skywalker could learn a lot from Feemor’s Padawan. However, Yoda felt like he might add a little to the situation. See for himself how they were doing.

He took the roots, vegetables, and beetles he usually used for this meal out of the fridge. He had gone to the kitchens just this morning to get them all to be sure he had enough for everyone. He knew his stew was not the favorite amongst the human members of his lineages, but it was tradition. Perhaps Anakin would like it. When he had met the boy in the kitchens, he had been complaining about the lack of sunbeetles for the meal he was going to prepare.

Setting the items on the kitchen counter, Yoda took a knife out of a drawer and began to cut them all up.

“Hello, younglings,” Yoda greeted the excited children. They were all vibrating with joy, so much that the Senior Padawan in charge of them looked a little nervous at their bouncing.

“Hello, Master Yoda,” the children greeted him in turn. “What are we going to make today?”

Yoda hummed as he led the group to the kitchens. They were all of various ages, the youngest being a four-year-old Togruta child and the oldest an eleven-year-old Mon Calamari boy. He would have to make something simple with them so that all could be included in the process.

Scanning the group of eight, Yoda noted that they didn’t have a single avian child amongst them. Well, that made his decision easier.

“Firecracker cookies, eaten those before have you?”

The Senior Padawan paled considerably and looked at Yoda as if he had just cursed him to eternal darkness. The Grandmaster cackled. The teenager must have tasted the Mandalorian delicacy once then.

A human child shook their head. “No. Are they tasty?”

“Very,” Yoda confirmed. “Do not offer them to avian species. Eat them, they can not. Too spicy they are for their stomachs.”

Now the Padawan actually let out a desperate whimper and Yoda couldn’t help but laugh out loud. This was bound to be a fun lesson for everyone involved.

Yoda had expected many things from the war and was sad how many of his predictions had come true. The bloodshed was gruesome, painful, and feeling so many sentients die around him was worse than anything he had ever experienced before, except, perhaps, reaching out for his Padawan and finding darkness where there once was light. It weighted heavily on his soul and he could only hope that the many Padawans dispersed around the galaxy had as much support as they needed. They had argued so much about whether to let their children fight, but if this war were to escalate, become even longer and harsher, they had to make sure that the next generation could survive it, that there would be a next generation to raise the one after and so on. Yoda did not expect to survive the end of the war, but he was old already, much older than his species usually became. He had seen much of the world and could pass on peacefully, knowing he had given as much as he could.

And all of it for those who would come after.

“Like you, hm?” Yoda asked the baby resting peacefully in his arms now. They had found the girl amongst the wreckage of another battlefield, her parents dead.

She had not been crying, had likely stopped days ago when she noticed that nobody was coming. The poor baby had only still been hurting in the Force, a wound as large and terrific as an exploding star.

The little Twi’lek looked at him with her dark green eyes, entirely focused as she sucked at the bottle. It was good that they were due for another stop at Coruscant. He could bring her to the creche and there they could provide her with more than the scrapped together milk they had found in her bombed home.

“A great Jedi will you be,” Yoda told her and gently caressed her cheek. “Strong and wise and a little troublesome, yes.”

The baby didn’t reply, she was hardly half a year old, a little too young for the creche actually but nothing they hadn’t mastered before. Yoda could feel her warmth however, that she was content and felt safe.

And that was the most important part.

“So, what’s for dinner?” asked Tekel, one of the newer troopers. Their armor was still too white and pristine for their brothers’ liking, but Yoda was sure they’d earn a few scratches soon, perhaps even add more paint. “Ration bars or ration bars or ration bars but already too old to actually be served as food?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” another brother replied and knocked against the young trooper’s shoulder as he made his way towards the campfire. “Never heard that one before.”

Yoda observed them fondly. They reminded him of the groups of Padawans hanging around the mess hall, joking and laughing and making fun of one another. The men certainly weren’t much older than the children Yoda had watched grow up. It would be more accurate actually to say they were younger given their accelerated aging. It was a blessing that they wouldn’t also grow old twice as fast unless they had a genetic mutation.

“Eat ration bars tonight, we will not,” Yoda decided.

His men turned to him with curious looks in their eyes. “We won’t? Did we get a shipment of something else?”

Their weapons and tactical training were impeccable, but you couldn’t forget that they had been raised in a sterile environment. Some of the finer elements of nature still eluded them.

“Pah! Mandalorian, your prime was, was he not? Part of our Order are you not? Smart hunters you are and full of life this planet is. Eat properly we will tonight.”

With that announcement, still keeping a serious face, Yoda walked into the woods on silent feet, his men quickly hurrying after him. They made too much noise at first, but quickly learned to walk as silently as he. It made Yoda wonder about their potential. Tekel especially was strong in the Force. He called it good instincts, but Yoda had not been born a fool. They didn’t have the equipment to test of Midichlorians, but good Jedi didn’t need those to know how strong their opposite was. He shouldn’t be a soldier, but a Jedi. None of his men should be forced to fight.

“I got one!” Tekel shouted after a while, victoriously holding up one of the local animals, a small round ball of fluff.

“Good, good,” Yoda praised. “Teach you how to cook it I will next.”

Tekel and their brothers exchanged a slightly worried look.

“Wait, what?”

Yoda loved the galaxy. It was bright and vibrant and there were so many things to see, explore and discover, but if he ever had to pick a space to spend the rest of his life in, it would most certainly be the temple. It was his home, where he had grown up and raised countless children, seen them grow into great Masters, surpassing him in the fraction of time it had taken him to learn. He was proud of all of them and was ashamed he could not lessen their burden more. They looked to him for answers about the war, deployments and battle strategy and hundred more things Yoda could not help them with.

This one thing, however, Yoda could do for them.

“Take another, you should,” Yoda said and held his plate out.

Before the council meeting, Yoda had made plenty of snacks for all the Council members currently stationed at the temple. They were due for another dusk-to-dawn meeting and Yoda knew very well how quick all of them were to neglect their own needs.

Mace politely raised his hands to decline the offer.

“Thank you, Master Yoda, but that one sandwich was enough for me.”

Yoda huffed and shook the plate slightly.

“Knew you as a youngling, I did. Never ate well then you did either, always causing your Master headaches. Have a biscuit, Mace.”

The other Master stared at the plate for a moment linger, than he admitted defeat and took a cookie from it. Yoda was pleased to notice that Mace, while giving his speech on troops currently stuck in the Outer Rim, took another cookie every few minutes.

Younglings shouldn’t protest so much, Yoda did know what was good for them

Yoda awoke to the smell of tea and breakfast. It was most unusual, as he was the one who made breakfast as he got up hours before his Padawan. The old Master got dressed and stepped out of his rooms and into the kitchen where, indeed, his Padawan was leaning over an old handwritten notebook, trying to decipher the instruction.

“Three tablespoons of cinnamon? That’s too much,” Dooku muttered under his breath. “Who puts three tablespoons of that stuff in pancakes?”

“Put this much cinnamon in my pancakes, I do, Padawan mine,” Yoda spoke up.

Dooku let out a quite undignified shriek and almost knocked over the chair standing behind him as he took a step back.

“Master!” Dooku complained. “Why are you up already?”

“Asking you this, I should be,” Yoda replied and sat down on his chair at their table.

If his Padawan had decided to make breakfast, Yoda was not going to stop him.

“Weeeeeell,” Dooku scratched the back of his head, his cheeks glowing red. The youngling was quite cute even now that his voice was beginning to crack. “It’s your life day, Master. I figured I should cook for you for once.”

Yoda smiled. “A meal, appreciate greatly I do.”

Dooku grinned back with youthful enthusiasm and went to retrieve his spoon from the batter. “So, three tablespoons of cinnamon?”

“Three tablespoons.”

In silence, Yoda watched his Padawan cook for him and imagined a future where he would get to see his young student cook for his entire lineage. They still had a while until then, but Yoda was sure it would be a sight to behold.

#star wars #yoda #mace windu #count dooku #tcw #jedi order #fanfic #ANYWAY STAN JEDI GRANDPA

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cowboycassini · 3 years

Text

Partners

Chapter Three

Rating: soft M

Characters: Jotopa Kaid, Toby

Warnings/Tags: mutual pining intensifies even more, clone culture, talk of being abandoned, force fuckery

Summary: Anakin Skywalker calls up his friend and fellow Knight Jotopa Kaid to go "on a little mission" with clone captain Toby and basically ruins their lives.

Word Count: about 6k

Chapter One, Chapter Two

---Mission Continues---

First day of officer training, and he was a wreck. Of his batch, only himself and Pyro were selected for commissions. The rest, Joker, Checkmate, Lucky, Kit, Snow, Blue, all showing exceptional promise, had gone into their own specialized training regiments. Toby (still then called Worrier) and Pyro also had their specializations, but heaped on top was the added burden of command.

The young man Jotopa watched did not think he was cut out for the job.

This was a memory of a dream. A dream of a memory. She remembered it as vividly as she had then and was as helpless to stop herself from sinking into him as she had been then. Jotopa did not recognize this exact instance, but there were so many; it would have been impossible to remember them all.

Worrier at this age was long and lanky, his limbs this side of gangly as muscles began to fill in the spaces between his stretch-marked skin and bones. His hair was regulation cut, a wisp of beard and mustache attempting to play around his jaw and lip at this late hour. The day must have been a particularly stressful one: the honey brown of his eyes was hooded and downcast, an expression she learned to recognize as anxiety and unhappiness. A shock of sympathy rushed through her, and not for the first time, she wished for the ability to pull the young man into her arms, to comfort and soothe.

His younger brother Pyro had an arm draped around his hunched shoulders, soulful dark eyes tired and pinched with worry. They leaned into each other, their curly heads touching, one drawing strength from the other and sending it back just as effortlessly as breathing.

“It’ll be alright, ori’vod. We’ll be alright. Don’t worry. You can do this: I know you can,” Pyro was murmuring soothingly, a familiar refrain that had taken on the cadence of a lullaby and often lulled Jotopa to sleep when she was wakeful. Worrier’s mouth twisted, head dipping before he shrugged out of his brother’s embrace. Pyro’s shock lanced through him, crackling across his skin like a bolt from a training blaster to the chest. Worrier grimaced, tugged Pyro down to lay side by side on his bunk.

“You’re right, vod’ika, of course y’are. I can do this.” He said, forcing levity and assurance in his voice when he felt none, when there was none. He couldn’t do this, not under his own strength, but for Pyro, he would.

Jotopa slowly opened her eyes, the ever-present sound of rain still ringing in her ears even as the cacophony of the rainforest raced to replace it. She breathed out, slowly, deeply, took stock of her surroundings. Cassios-7. Beneath the starboard wing of her powerless ship in the makeshift camp set up by clone Captain Toby. A bedroll surrounded by netting infested with bugs. Most of note, the man curled around her, face nestled in the space between her shoulder and the back of her neck, not quite snoring. She swallowed and decided to focus on the pair of fox-like creatures moving across the tree line opposite her. She thought they must be going for the stream hidden not six paces into the dense thicket. Four days ago, she and the man who had his muscled arm draped across her middle found it as they had scouted out the immediate area around their ship and camp. She truly had not pegged him for a cuddler, and every night since the first morning she awoke cradled in his arms, she was somehow more surprised than the night preceding.

Her lips twitched up as she remembered the exasperation that flickered over his handsome face and through his Force signature when she told him she could sense the water was safe to drink. He had squatted down, the sunlight dappling attractively over his bare shoulders, and pulled out the water sampling kit. Eyebrow raised in unabashed challenge, he had asked if she didn’t mind if he double-checked, and she didn’t think she did the best job of concealing her immense amusement as she agreed that it was best he do so.

Hard to believe he was the same person from her dreams. Jotopa pulled her upper lip into her mouth, worried it with her teeth as a frown knit the space between her eyebrows. It didn’t make sense, she thought as she absently ran her palm up the captain’s warm forearm, eyes still carefully following the fox duo. The pair were a sleek sapphire, their tails bushy, their undercoats a lush emerald. Though not as long-limbed as Loth cats, something about the way they moved, about the glint around those dainty ink-black paws, convinced Jotopa that they were several orders of magnitude more dangerous. Her captain was much the same, Jotopa concluded as, with a deft leap, one of the agile blue and green foxes snatched a bird out of the sky.

With a sigh of regret, she slipped out of the warm shelter of his arms and stood to stretch. Her eyes were drawn to the sleeping man at her feet, sweeping her eyes over him briefly as she thought about the day ahead. Though the past four days had seen them very busy, Jotopa couldn’t help but feel slightly impatient. The jungle was dense, and both she and her captain well knew the dangers of setting off without having a game plan or without having any navigational methods or bearings to help them should they get lost. She thought she was doing a good job of keeping her desire to leave the confines of the camp to herself. It couldn’t be said that she did not enjoy Toby’s company. The opposite was true: she enjoyed his company too much. Watching him as he went about his self-appointed duties, the play of light and movement of muscle beneath his sweat-slicked skin quickly established itself as her favorite hobby. Jotopa did her best not to indulge, but his smiles often drew her helplessly in, little gifts he gave generously, and she was addicted to the way his eyes lit in surprise and pleasure when she did something he supposed out of the ordinary.

But all of that fueled her conviction that they leave this place as soon as possible, so when she could tear her eyes from him, she found herself pacing the edges of the tree line, waiting for her captain to finish his preparations. The coil of tension that burned hot in her navel each time Toby set eyes on her form turned into a restless energy that she was eager to put to use in the jungle. If she were able, Jotopa would gather every atom of frustration into her legs and leap over the treetops and directly to the top of the spire. But she would wait for him. She would wait for him to be ready.

As all their usual navigation methods were unavailable, they were forced to fall back on more primitive means. It was something they were both well versed in, and even luckier for them both, that Captain Toby, being a scout, was especially suited. Jotopa smiled at the sleeping clone captain, let herself admire his plush lips framed by beard stubble, the broad set of his shoulders, and the groove of muscles cut into his abdomen in the predawn light. Just visible above where the waistband of his blacks slung low across his hips, she could just barely make out streaking bands of stretch marks, the dark trail of hair that had its origin at his belly button, and she clenched her fingers to dispel the desire to reach down and touch them. There were things to do, and she needed to do them before he caught her gawking at him.

Jotopa silently slipped out of the netting, noting as she did that the foxes were gone, and the only evidence of their presence was the bloody remains of their breakfast just barely visible in the tall grass. A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head and made for the center of the clearing, where it was quickly becoming her habit to perform her morning stretching and katas before Captain Toby woke.

Face turned towards the sun, Jotopa spread her arms wide and simply listened to the world around her for a long moment. Master D’Aleric always said that a Jedi’s first duty was to the Force and that no Jedi worth his or her salt was ever remiss in taking the first minutes of the day in grounding themselves as deeply as they could in its presence. Jotopa took his lessons to heart, and for her, on Cassios-7, that meant greeting the sun as it crested the horizon and began to peek between the tangle of tree trunks shyly.

The sunlight was warm on already warm skin as she slowly dropped her arms. On her shoulders, her leather vest sat uncomfortably, and Jotopa, tired and irritated already from wearing it in the unrelenting heat and fearing to chafe if she continued, shed it with little thought. Feeling much cooler without the stifling weight of her vest, Jotopa quickly fell into her first form and, mind clear, allowed herself to think about the dream she’d had.

For nearly half her life, her dreams and idle imaginings had been haunted by images and scenes of a life for which she had no reference but of which she was sure was real. Worrier and his brothers were sometimes more real to her than the memories of her fellow younglings in the creche. When sadness threatened, when self-doubt tapped at her ragged shields with poison-tipped claws, she was as likely to ground herself by humming batch songs and snatches of cadence she picked up in her dreams as she was the songs of her covert or the techniques taught to her by Master D’Aleric. Without ever having spoken to him, he saved her life more times than he could ever know.

But it was one thing to know, in a distant way, that you were connected to someone. It was alright when the longing to see him face to face was an ache in her chest that she knew could never be satisfied. How could she fulfill that desire when she knew nothing of him besides his name and number, besides the fact that he was one unforgettable face lost among a sea of identical faces? It was an impossible dream. And it was safe. The longing she felt. The desire that grew with the long years, her feelings and regard for a man she was so certain she would never, ever in her lifetime meet. A Sentinel could not afford to dwell on what could never be, and Jotopa strove to be the best in her generation. The darkness was growing, and even though every dream, every glimpse of his face filled her with light, she couldn’t afford to falter, not when there was so much work left undone.

Jotopa grappled with the shock of Worrier as she often saw him in her dreams and Toby as he was now. The reality of it. The way everything about him was even more overwhelming than in her dreams. For so long, she had only known him by the name his fellow cadets had given him. It burned, it clawed at her insides when the Council disseminated the alert, and she was finally able to provide a proper label for her honey-eyed Worrier: clone trooper. Slave soldier. Born to die in service to the Republic. And the Jedi were the ones chosen to lead them to their deaths. It grated. It grated in a way, Jotopa couldn’t wholly attribute to her morals.

Often, she wanted to reach out for him and stopped herself. Since the war began, she dreamed of him less. His mind was often out of her reach, and she hated how much that worried her. But worse was the crippling relief every time she felt his mind return from whatever deep levels of unconsciousness from which it had been trapped and reach out towards her. It wasn’t fair, but then, she thought as she swiftly moved from the easier katas and into the more intensive forms, life didn’t promise fairness. Her fault for getting attached to a man she wholly couldn’t have. That he was safe was important. That she had an opportunity to spend time with him, to admi- (study, she corrected herself hastily, sternly, cursing when her concentration broke, and she flubbed her backflip).

She landed as gracefully as she could and rubbed her temples in irritation. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and seconds later, the sounds of Toby shifting as he woke reached her. Jotopa sucked her teeth, stomping off towards the tree line. She needed a stick to run through her katas. That would help her concentrate, she decided firmly. And worst-case scenario, she could beat herself to death with it.

—

A week back in the welcoming bosom of the Jedi Temple was enough to convince Jotopa that she did not belong here anymore. The man who called himself her Master was kind enough to show her to their old suite of rooms. He’d maintained them all these years, and the fact that he one day intended to come to collect her like a suit left overlong at the dry cleaner’s hung heavy in every breath of recycled air she pulled into her lungs.

The young woman that the young cadet, once known as Worrier but now called Toby, watched was a stranger in her own home. This was a familiar dream. A well-trod memory. The dimensions of these rooms were as familiar to him as his sleeping tube on Kamino. He thought she must often think of it, like picking at a scab until it formed a scar that she in turn was unable to leave off.

Sometimes, she remembered her room best, the moment she walked in and saw that everything had been left just as it was when she left it years ago. She would touch the desk, run a nail-bitten finger through the fine layer of dust, a thick feeling rising in her throat and hurting her so much the echo of it resonated in his skin and bones when he woke. At times, she would linger in the kitchen; eyes fixed on objects he didn’t know the purpose of.

But today was different. Today, she went down the road less traveled. Today, she spoke to her Master.

D’Aleric was always on the couch, waiting for her. The Chiss Jedi Master was friendly, kind, and compassionate. Tousled, close-cropped hair. Warm, bone-crushing hugs that never failed to make her feel safe and wanted. Robes that smelled of home. That was the Master D’Aleric young Kadijah knew. That was the Master D’Aleric who sat waiting patiently for Jotopa Kaid. When they alighted upon her, his crimson eyes were sympathetic, as if she had disappointed him somehow, and it galled Toby every time that it seemed as if she agreed with the assessment. If he were able, he would gather her up and protect her from the honeyed poison of her Master’s soft gaze.

“Come sit, my dear. Let us review the basics.”

Pack rubbing a blister on his naked back and feeling more vulnerable than he had since the first time he jumped, with nothing but his blacks and a breather clamped between clenched teeth, into the raging Kaminoan sea, Toby followed Jotopa as she slowly picked a path through the dense jungle.

If Joker could see him now, even he, who never heard a joke that could crack the impenetrable fortress of his face, would be doubled over in laughter at his predicament. Many were the nights that Pyro and Checkmate crawled into his tube, the three of them passing snippets of bawdy one-liners they’d picked up from other batches and squads between each other, weaving them into ridiculous stories and jokes that made even Snow pause, and there was hardly anything that could put him off his dinner.

How many times had Joker told the three of them, and him especially, that if they spent less time karking around, maybe they’d know the regs frontways and backways like he did, eh?

Well, tell a guy something enough, and it finally gets through his thick head. His batchers would be proud. Four days had come and gone since their arrival on Cassios-7, and Toby had not spent the time idle. Since his hardy little Jetii woke the day after their crash landing, he made it his business to learn the immediate area around them like the back of his hand. It was vital for him to have an excellent working knowledge of his surroundings. With so many unknowns about their circumstances and with so much of their equipment currently inoperable, his Knight would be depending on him to know what to do and where to go at all times.

So it was with surprise and no small amount of pleasure when on the second full day of their stranding, she joined him in familiarizing herself with the lay of the land. She was skilled, nearly as proficient as he was in many tasks. The little beauty could count paces and subtly make landmarks with the best of his vode, better than some. The thought didn’t rankle. There was a familiarity about her actions that he couldn’t quite figure out, something about her besides her staggering beauty that drew him up short time and again. But that was fine. Patience was instilled in him by the finest trainers in the galaxy. Sooner or later, it would come to him. What was bothersome was her casual dependence, her easy confidence in the Force, and if he caught himself challenging her assumptions here and there just to see her dark eyes narrow or the quick upturn of her plush lips, well, that was his business.

Knight Kaid. Jotopa. She wanted him to call her Jotopa. Jotopa. Jotopa.

Jotopa was a ball of impatient energy. It became clear to him early on that she was content with a more rudimentary setup than he was. Though he supposed with a derisive snort, if he had some mystical power to depend upon, he would be too. Given how much she seemed to enjoy pressing him on more trivial matters, Toby expected a struggle when he cautiously broached the subject of pausing for a few days in their camp. But she surprised him again, looking up at him with an earnest expression in her lovely brown eyes, listening to his argument with a focus that made his skin feel hot, and then agreeing so readily he later questioned why he even brought it up. The way she looked at him when she said she trusted him to know when it was time to go still made his heart thud painfully in his chest. Despite the resolution he made then and there to stay as far away from her as possible, Toby nevertheless found himself gravitating to her side by the time the sun was setting.

Despite herself, by the third day, she was pacing the bounds of the camp, her eyes scanning the sky, her hands on her shapely hips, head tilted towards the barely visible Temple spire as if she could summon the artifact to her side through sheer will alone. Toby spent many unproductive hours hidden away in high vantage points watching her. Jotopa was up even earlier than he was, but he often woke in time to watch her doing her stretches and her exercises. He would lay, sleepy and still, and admire the graceful movements of her body, so much different than any Jetiise he had ever seen before. Later in the day, he would contrast her early morning serenity with the way she delicately balanced on the balls of her feet, looking like she would sprint off into the jungle at any moment. It was a curious thing that the only reason she did not was that he asked it of her.

But regardless of how much different she was from other Jetiise, despite how she made him feel things he wasn’t supposed to be feeling, Toby figured she was still just a Jetii. He knew how to deal with those.

Joker would most definitely be laughing his ass off at his big brother Worrier right now.

In his defense, she caught him off guard: hers were the first pair of breasts he had ever seen (not that the fact made him any less certain they were the most perfect and well-formed in the entire galaxy). And it was morning. He hadn’t even had his ration bar yet, for Prime’s sake! It wasn’t like he’d never seen breasts before; he’d gotten the same thorough sex education and anatomy flash training as every other cadet. And even if he didn’t spend nearly all of his conscious hours on missions, he was sure he wouldn't spend his time as some of his vode did, trawling the clone intranet looking at all the illegal porn there was available; there were always more entertaining things to do than that. But even if he had, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of her practically half-naked. He’d gawked at her like a dumb shiny, not sure what he should look at more: those parted full lips, her breasts in that ridiculous mesh top, those abs, those toned abs, or the alluring flare of her hips, aware in a profound way that the true answer was that he shouldn’t look at any of it.

Hard not to remember the way her dark areolas had tightened into tight little buds the longer he stared at her, thrusting so enticingly through her top that even now, his mouth watered. He was absolutely, miserably sure her skin was the softest thing he would never be allowed to touch and try as he might; Toby couldn’t figure where this conviction came from. At some point, she licked her lips (a move he followed with incredible attention) and asked him what his plans were for the day. He mentally thanked her for being precise. Maker only knew what might have come out of his mouth if she had been a little vaguer. Instead, through the rush of blood heading towards his groin, he’d told her that he was ready to make an attempt on the Temple. A lie, that. But one he would take to his grave.

If he thought about it, Toby knew he could easily recall innumerable situations that were much worse than this. Trekking through the jungle half-naked with only a knife to defend himself didn’t even touch his top twenty shitlist. Was it hot as fuck? Yes, even in halfsies, he was sweating his balls off, and even though every glimpse of her skin did nothing but reroute precious blood from his brain, Toby knew shedding the leather vest was the wiser decision. Was it noisy? Yes, loud as fuck, but it was nothing compared to 79’s when the Wolfpack rolled in fresh from a victory or in the Guard barracks that time Hound got ahold of contraband whiskey. And none of it so loud as cannons firing. He wasn’t the biggest fan of being without blasters and rifle, but Toby wouldn’t count himself an ARC trooper of any worth if he couldn’t adapt to that little handicap. Oh, and the biggest kicker: had he worked with worse Jetiise before? That was a resounding fuck, yes. He might have only known Jotopa Kaid for four and a half days, but in that time, she’d shown herself to have more honor, compassion, and grit than any Jetiise he’d ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on.

Just ahead of him, she stopped and crouched beside the trunk of a tree whose outstretched branches drooped with long, wispy vines. Carefully, Toby settled in next to her. The trees surrounding them created a thick canopy that obscured the sky, and the occasional shafts of light that pierced the quiet gloom were of indeterminate quality and impossible to tell time with. Among the trees, the air was hot and still, and at first, he wondered why his Jetii decided to break at this tree, but then he felt the slightest hint of a breeze cooling the sweat on his skin and picked up the faint movement of the draping vines. In the low light, their matching grins shone.

“I thought I sensed this break in the trees about a kilometer back, but I wanted to confirm,” she whispered. Toby tilted his head.

“How could you sense a change like that, sir?” He asked, curious despite himself. Though her expression remained the same, Toby was suddenly convinced she was self-conscious. She laughed softly, shrugging.

“The density of the Living Force changes in a clearing. It doesn’t empty, of course, because a clearing isn’t devoid of life, but it’s a different quality, you could say.” She cut her eyes away, cupped her elbows in her hands. “It was a hunch, anyway.”

Carefully, Toby parted the curtain of vines. “It was a good hunch, Jo,” he said as he looked out onto the clearing, taking note of the position of the sun and estimating that it was mid-morning. “The spire looks even closer from here.” At her indrawn breath, he looked back at her, only to find her staring at him open-mouthed.

“Sir? Are you alright?” He asked even as he shifted his position to check her for injuries. It hadn’t sounded like a noise of pain, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure, especially when they had limited medical supplies. She gently caught his hands in hers, halting his inspection.

“I’m alright, Toby,” she said, making a face. Toby cocked his head, eyebrows furrowing at this entirely new expression. A tendril of worry curled in his stomach, and he quickly reviewed their conversation, trying to locate his error so he could improve and she would smile at him again.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked when he drew a blank, and he tried to keep the anxiety out of his tone, choosing instead to stroke the pad of one thumb across the palm of her hand. Her’s were much softer than his by far, but even still, he felt the gun calluses on her fingers, felt the way work had toughened the skin. He didn’t need to take his gloves off for that: she often touched him on his arm and shoulder enough to sear her touch into his memory.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said vehemently, wresting one hand from him so she could rest it on his chest above his heart. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. You surprised me, is all.” The knot in his stomach loosened, a lazy warmth spreading through his chest at her touch.

“I surprised you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. She smiled, all teasing eyes and bright teeth, and the anxious knot dissolved completely. When she moved to slide past him and enter the clearing, he let her.

“You often do, Captain. It’s part of why I like you so much.” She threw over her shoulder, and Toby rolled his eyes, glad neither that she nor his batch brothers could see his dopey grin.

---

By late afternoon, Jotopa decided that either they were lost or something was afoot. The spire that seemed so close in the meadow at mid-morning break was not closer for all their walking. Several times over the hours, she or Toby would stop and carefully climb to the top of a tree and regain their bearings, assure themselves they had not gotten lost or were going in circles. Each time they confirmed the same facts: they were on the correct heading, and the Temple looked to be no more than a kilometer or two away.

And yet, the sun was beginning to tilt downwards, and they were no closer to the Temple than they were that morning.

Honestly, she should have noticed sooner. Any other mission, any other time, Jotopa knew she would have, but ever since her encounter with Toby in camp before they set off, her concentration had been...scattered.

A more mature Jedi would have already brushed the incident off. The entire thing wouldn’t have even been rated as being anything of note. What did it matter, someone like Master D’Aleric or Master Lidan would have reasoned, that her clone trooper was attracted to her? The galaxy was teeming with life and full of possibilities. Was she so immature as to think that she was immune to being looked at, and was she so weak that she couldn’t simply shrug it off, release what discomfort she might feel from his interest into the Force, and focus her attention on the task at hand? She was a Sentinel, a Jedi who lived among the people and the shadows and brought light to them. Discomfort was as much a part of her day-to-day as eating and drinking.

It was only that his interest didn’t make her uncomfortable. It scared her, but only because she had convinced herself that what she felt was internal and limited to her own foolishness. So to be frozen on the spot, heart in her throat, while he looked at her with an expression that was so nakedly hungry, she would have known exactly what he wanted even if his Force signature wasn’t a billowing swirl of desire and frustration. It made thinking difficult. Certainly, Jotopa didn’t think she could be faulted for that, but even so, she was supposed to be better than this. She expected better of herself than this.

With a soft sigh, the young Sentinel looked out of the corner of her eye at her companion. The armor he had worn when departing the Resolute reminded her in many ways of the armor members of her covert wore, and she supposed that made sense. He and all his vode were clones of the Mandalorian Jango Fett, and the irony of that was not lost to her. His pauldron, helmet, and chest plates had bolstered his aura of lethality. Looking at him now, with only his vambraces and gauntlets on, the calm, watchful expression on his face as they picked their way through the undergrowth, the careful way he marked trees as they went, Jotopa decided he looked more dangerous and more natural, like this.

When they broke through a tangle of trees and found themselves in a small copse, Jotopa called for a break.

“We’re not going in circles, but we’re not making any progress,” Toby said, getting straight to the point as he rummaged through their pack and tossed her water and a ration bar. Jotopa smiled around her swig of water. There was a tree, larger than all the others and twice as wide, its bark peeling in long grey strips, whose roots pushed out of the rich black soil and created a small depression of moss and leaves. Jotopa dropped her hands to her belt, intending to use her kama as a makeshift blanket. Behind her, Toby made a choked noise.

“A-Ah, let me,” he said, and in a few practiced motions, his kama was drawn from his hips and draped across the depression. Jotopa blinked.

“Oh. Thank you.” She said, gingerly sitting. His kama was made of pliable synth leather, the black painted with thick blue stripes. There were faint scratches in the material and what she recognized as blaster burns that had been lovingly cleaned and repaired. In the Force, the kama sang with his signature. Jotopa smiled softly and looked up to where Toby had taken a seat on a root to her left.

“So,” Toby started, rolling his water bottle between his hands, a pensive look on his sweaty face, “how is it that we’ve been walking through this jungle all day, and we’re no closer to the temple than when we started?”

Jotopa shrugged.

“It’s probably some Force osik. It usually is, in my experience.” She said casually, reaching out to pluck a large pink blossom and study it. It was large, requiring two hands to hold it, the petals rich and shot through with deep blue veins. The stamens pulsed purple in the dappled light above. Toby made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. She thought it might have been a mix of disbelief and irritation. Jotops hid her smile behind the flower.

“Sir, you don’t even know what that,” he pulled in a deep breath and seemed to reevaluate himself. When he continued, his tone was more level but no less skeptical, “Force osik, huh? An astute observation.”

“Hmm, I know. It’s almost like we’re on a planet steeped in Force energy, and our mission was to retrieve a powerful artifact of unknown power.” She said dryly.

“Point taken,” he said with a chuckle, and she ducked her head, unwilling to let him see how much his laugh affected her. It wasn’t fair how much she liked him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

“Where did you learn Mando’a?” He eventually asked in a tentative tone. Jotopa smiled down at the flower in her lap, stroked the soft petals between her fingers.

“My mother taught me. I’m a foundling.” She said and felt his confusion roll over her skin even before he voiced his question.

“A foundling? But,” he trailed off at her self-deprecating laugh, and she did not see the frown on his face, lost as she now was in her memories.

“It’s a little confusing, I know. When I was thirteen, my Master traded me for intel. It was the right thing to do: he saved an entire village of children with what he learned. I was given to a Mandalorian who adopted me, and I threw myself completely into that life. Until my Master returned for me three or so years later.”

The copse was still amongst the shrieking of the birds. Jotopa could hear him shifting, feel his confusion and an undercurrent of some emotion that ran too fast for her to grasp or understand.

“He gave you away, and you went back with him. Why?” His incredulous, angry tone made her laugh. The answer was so obvious.

“The Force, of course. It told me that if I became a Jedi, I would find something extraordinary.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Did you?” She looked up at him, smiled softly.

“Yes. I did.”

He huffed, feeling his face heat at her earnest expression. When she looked at him like that, he was never sure what to do, and it didn’t help that her story was too much like his dreams for comfort. Bad enough that it made his blood simmer in his dreams; in person, he was nearly boiling with rage. It didn’t take a genius to see how much it hurt to be traded away like that, like something that didn’t matter, and even if she excused it or said that it was the right thing to do, Toby knew in his guts, she was wrong. She deserved better than that.

“Well, whatever it was you found, I hope it was worth it to you, Jo,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and offering to help her stand with the other. She took it with a grateful smile, and he pulled her up effortlessly.

“I think we should head back to camp. What do you think?” She asked. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and considered a moment before nodding.

“Think so. If we’re lucky, we won’t encounter any night predators.” He said pessimistically, and she laughed.

“Looking on the bright side, I see. On the way back, would you mind telling me a little about yourself, please?” She asked, holding her arms out for the pack. He shot her an affronted look and shouldered it. Slightly put out, she checked their position and headed in the direction of the camp.

Grimacing, Toby walked behind her in silence for several minutes. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she could carry the weight, far from it, but it was just a small pack. He was used to carrying much heavier loads, and he hadn’t scratched the reserves of his stamina yet. Though she wasn’t making a big deal out of it, he could tell by the set of her shoulders and the way the air around her seemed a little dimmer that she was still upset, and that wasn’t something he wanted.

“I was in the Coruscant Guard before being assigned to General Skywalker,” he said, squinting up at the trees ahead. Her interest, of a different flavor than usual, lighter but still good, still very good, tingled over his skin. His mouth twitched up.

“Oh? What was that like?” She asked, and he didn’t know why he was surprised by how genuine the question was. It tied his tongue into knots.

“Ahh. Noisy.” He said, vastly understating the hell that was Guard service, and she giggled, which was something he liked very much. They walked in companionable silence for some distance.

“What about Anakin? Does he treat you well?” She asked just as they broke through the trees and entered their camp. The question drew Toby up short, and instead, he commented on what great time they made: the sun was still out.

“So it is. Chalk that up to more Force osik, huh?” Jotopa said teasingly. Toby nodded distractedly and let her pull him by the hand into camp.

#sw fic #sw oc #swtcw fanfic #clone trooper oc #jedi oc #star wars oc #black woman oc

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dagenspear · 4 years

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Basic Plot Redo of THE LAST JEDI

I don't particularly hate TLJ, but I think the movie is not well done, to me, and I think I had different references for. I think they could've stood to have Rey be Luke's daughter and structure a story about the burden of legacy in TLJ. Lord willing, these are the ideas that God blessed me with:

First, an exploration of backstory:

I don’t fully mind what they did with Luke. In concept I like it, but I think there’s things left out that could round out the character and explore his characterization and reasons for his actions. Luke began a new jedi order. He married Mara Jade, they have a daughter, Rey, but then the emergence of a new dark side force begins, the first order rises and Luke doesn't understand why this has happened again. Anakin destroyed the sith. It should be over. While I don’t know if I’d go for this, but Mara Jade is killed in battle defending her daughter in the midst of a raid by the first order, maybe even the Knights Of Ren do it.

Luke, tormented by this, furiously digs for information about why this has begun again, and finds out the meaning of it, that the balance is a cycle, not a single event. When he senses the dark side in Ben, senses Snoke’s influence, he feels it all happen again, the fall of the jedi, the rise of the empire, the destruction of the family he has left. In that moment of fear and pain, shaken by the perception of his family being destroyed by a rise of another Vader, he allows his fear to drive him, and considers killing his nefew, maybe even in a way to almost spare him the pain that his future could bring him, taking out his lightsaber, but not igniting it, realizing that it would be wrong to do, maybe even seeing his robot hand, reminding him of the events of ROTJ.

But Ben senses that and lashes out in rage. The new jedi order is burned, his daughter gone, her dead he thinks and his powers gone. Luke sees this as almost the force punishing him for what he did. Casting out those remaining, among them a partner in his training Lor San Tekka, sending R2D2 with him.

Luke himself not realizing that Ben had taken Rey, feeling tempted to kill her to avoid a threat to his rightful Skywalker lineage, but being unable to kill his cousin, he wiped her mind of any training she’d gotten by Luke and abandoned her on Jakku. Lor San Tekka discovered Rey and that’s why he was there and was willing to reveal the map to Luke at this time. He believed the knowledge of his daughter being alive, would reignite the spark of hope inside him, a message he never had the chance to relay to Poe, before the first order attacked. Han considered this to be the case as well after meeting her and Leia sensed it after they met as well. Kylo began to see it after hearing about it.

Luke over the course of the movie does grow to rediscover his goals by the end. Through finding out that Rey is his daughter and connecting to her and admitting what he did with Ben, feeling like he's disconnected from the force as a punishment, seeing him considering killing Ben as not much different than what Vader had done when killing the younglings. He sees his 2nd chance in Rey. But this is hurt when Rey discovers that Luke didn't try to find her after she was taken. Luke is in shame by this, as Rey leaves. Luke is then confronted by either Yoda or Obi-Wan (or both), who explain to him that he's seen Vader in himself and thus saw his failure as if he would be like him, saying that Luke has lost sight of what made him him, and it wasn't being a jedi. Them telling him the folly of not seeing his own humanity, underneath being a jedi, confronting him with truth of what happened to Padme, who Luke has no memories of and hasn't connected with (seeing only the Vader/Anakin in himself), telling him that they sensed in her that the children were beginning to die in the womb, but she gave up every ounce of life force she had left to keep alive, in spite of not being a jedi or force sensitive. In the midst of this Luke realizes that he cut himself off from the force in his shame and self loathing, he wasn't being punished. He reaches through the force and out to Padme, seeing her after she's given birth to him, even in the present feeling the touch of her energy on his face, seeing her and Anakin. Luke resolves to go after Rey.

Leia still grieves for the loss of Han, but almost refuses to see her son as gone, this building to her outright attacking a first order village raid to try and lure Kylo to them, her confronting Kylo and practically daring him to kill her. He can't. But Kylo is forced to bring Leia to Snoke. We'd also develop Leia having trained as a jedi with Luke.

Rey was never raised, to her knowledge, with the idea of what potential she had. Into adulthood, she's confronted and dragged into that potential. After meeting Luke, she thinks he must've left her on Jakku. But Kylo, still through their link, tells her that he didn't do that and that he took her to kill her, but couldn't. Now, after discovering the pain and loss that comes with being a Skywalker, to the point of feeling abandoned and betrayed by Luke, her dad. After finding out that Luke didn't come looking for her, out of fear of finding her dead, she lashes out at him, angry and hurt, feeling abandoned and betrayed, telling him he has nothing to teach her. Then hunting down Kylo for the death of Han and Finn being hurt.

On the flipside there's Ben, someone who was raised in the Skywalker family, with knowledge of his potential, of his legacy, the idea that his bloodline has potential power that he thinks is his birthright, but it's just out of his reach, and he becomes bitter and feels cheated out of what he sees as rightfully his. And when tempted by the darkside, he doesn't choose to resist, seeing it as his way to get the true power of a Skywalker. He could resent Han for being normal, a mere pilot, seeing him as apart of his weakness. After killing his dad, his pain is crippling, something he takes out on his fodder, in the midst of his final training with Snoke. This grows to a rage and resentment against Snoke and the first order, as he and the Knights Of Ren are used as a weapon to invade worlds and plunder children, and particularly after Snoke forces Kylo to bring Leia to him.

Finn may be more committed to Rey, but he himself also has begun to see what these people are dying for, and does decide to help Poe and the resistance, when Leia gets herself captured as a way for them to pinpoint a location of Snoke. Helping them break into a stormtrooper training facility to use their network to track Kylo's ship to Snoke, them seeing children being taken by the first order, and him deciding to try and help them, only to fail when Phasma, rather than let the kids go free, has some of them killed. Leading to Finn seeing the unfortunate side effect of caring, the pain of failure and loss. Him reacting badly to this and in a rage hunting down and killing Phasma.

With Poe, detail his backstory as almost someone with a death wish, whose looking to die in a blaze of glory in his mind. His parents, former rebels, killed by the last remnants of the empire, him becoming someone who doesn't get particularly attached. His arc being him finding something to live for, instead of die for, as he and Finn try and rescue the children taken to be indoctrinated by the first order. When pinned in some rubble, he cuts his hand off to ensure, he can protect the children and secure their way out.

All of these plots begin to converge on Snoke's ship. Leia is brought to Snoke by Ben. But Leia shocked to discover that Snoke is a force projection.

In a reveal, we'd see that Ben, seeking the power he felt he deserved as a Skywalker, tapped into the dark side and in mental disconnection, it has manifested itself as Snoke, the darkest parts of Ben's mind given life by the dark side energy he'd absorbed.

It pushes Kylo to kill Leia, as she tries to reach him. He lashes out in a rage and kills the Snoke manifestation, taking it into himself and taking in all the power of the dark side.

Rey charges Kylo in her rage, and tries to kill him, but Kylo defeats her. His powers outmatching hers, tossing her off to the Knights. Luke arrives in time, brandishing his green light saber, facing Kylo and (though this is more a suggestion) but Luke taking Anakin's lightsaber and passing it off to Leia, to assist. As Rey steals one of the Knights weapons and tries to fight them off. Them both battling Kylo and trying to reach him. Kylo exclaiming that he's building a legacy, beyond the Skywalkers now. Luke and Leia firing back that all he is another dark sider leading a stormtrooper army.

Kylo, realizing they're right, uses his powers to turn all the ships of the first order on eachother, stating a new path, "No more stormtroopers, no more death stars, no more empire." Making the statement of the dark side being the only thing left, and using the ships weapons to destroy eachother, even Snoke's ship, Kylo casually protecting himself from the destruction. Rey is the first the recover and tries to catch Kylo off guard, who stomps her, wounds her and in a petty slash of vengeance, slices the lightsaber over Rey's left eye, blinding her in it and scarring her. He lifts his lightsaber up and brings it down as a final blow, but Leia takes the hit for Rey. Kylo, for all his villainy, is still enraged at this and tears the already damaged ship apart in his pain and anger. This allows Luke and Rey to escape with a dying Leia. (I did this in the hindsight of Carrie's passing.)

Leia tells Luke she knows what happened and she forgives him. Luke apologizing for Han and what he did, promising he won't give up again. Rey, devestated at what she sees as her fault, tries to help, refuses to believes there isn't a way. Luke holds her off, her crying, as she apologizes to Leia. Who simply reminds her that they all make mistakes and apart of her believes her son isn't gone. Luke reaffirming that with the no one's ever really gone line. And with that Leia peacefully passes away.

And with that we end the movie:

Luke having re-established his goal of heroism and maybe even left as a resistance leader.

Poe, seeing himself as having found something to live for.

Finn being driven by a desire for revenge upon any remnants of the FO.

And Rey, as she stands out in front of the forcefield of the x-wing bay, in the starship, over looking an ocean of stars, holding Anakin's lightsaber. She, in a rejection of the Skywalker legacy and the pain and death that comes with it, throws the lightsaber into space.

The movie ending on her standing in front of that ocean of stars.

THE END

Please review and tell me what you think!

#reysky #rey skywalker #anti+reylo #anti st #anti tlj

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theoncequeen-blog · 5 years

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Don't leave us in darkness

Smoke came from the Jedi Temple, the ancient monument a site of massacre. This stress couldn't be good for the baby Padmé thought anxiously, but pushed it aside for the time being. She had to focus on Anakin, what she would do if he was who Obi-Wan said he was.

Her Ani, a Dark Sith Lord? She wished with every fibre of her being that it was not true. The sweet little boy from Tattooine was long gone, but the man who replaced him was surely no Sith Lord.

Unconsciously Padmé's hand drifted to her stomach. The younglings in the temple, gone. They were the embodiment of hope and purity itself, as all children are. Padmé hoped with all her heart that it wasn't true, that Anakin hadn't taken innocent lives that belonged to beautiful children who had yet to live. That the shrouded figure in the holovideo wasn't him, even though it looked like him.

He couldn't have.

He would never.

"Threepio!" Padmé called, already springing into action. She swiftly walked to her wardrobe and grabbed a change of clothes.

"Yes mistress Padmé?" The protocol droid asked, glad to be of some use. He disliked seeing the Senator upset, and she had been upset for a while now. Jedi business, he assumed. That was what he dubbed any problems that involved Master Anakin.

"Will you prepare my ship? We're going on a quick trip." She said decidedly, already picking up a blaster that was hidden under the table. The day of diplomatic negotiations was long gone, it would seem. Just in case, she thought, placing it on top of her pile of clothes.

C-3P0 began to babble but Padmé cut him off.

"Set the course for Mustafar."

The two met each other's eyes for a moment, before Threepio blinked in shock and nodded. For once, he knew this wasn't a time for words.

He trotted off and Padmé took a moment for herself. She sat down on Anakin's side of the bed heavily. She placed her free hand on the bedsheet, running it over the smooth silk. Padmé only noticed she was crying when the tears dropped on her nightgown. She wiped the tears away but they kept falling, too quick for her to brush them all away.

The holovid that Obi-Wan had shown her refused to leave her mind. The shrouded figure, the younglings and their fear. Their screams, oh force, their screams. They weren't seasoned warriors unlike their mentors, they were children.

Dead children now, Padmé thought.

Would he do the same to their children if it meant saving her?

An intense feeling of sickness pervaded her stomach and she ran to the fresher, vomiting up everything that had been in her stomach.

Padmé sat beside the toilet for minutes until she felt she could move without getting sick again. She wished the door would open to reveal a friend, someone who could advise her on what to do. This decision wasn't one she could make lightly, her children's welfare depended on her survival. But hundreds, possibly thousands...millions? more depended on her bringing Anakin back.

Threepio knocked on the fresher door and heard the Senator respond with an "I'll be there in a moment!". He may have only been a droid, but he could hear her sniffles from behind the door. Sighing quietly he resigned himself to a long wait. A moment was never simply a moment with the Senator.

Padmé stared in the mirror at her bloodshot eyes and pale face. A far cry from the seemingly flawless Queen she used to be.

Whatever happened next, the only thing she could do was what her conscience dictated.

She splashed some water on her face and quickly got changed. Then she exited the room and met Threepio at the door, ready to knock again.

"Mistress Padmé, there you are. Your ship is ready, but Captain Typho wishes to accompany you." He stated.

"I'll handle him. You go ahead without me and wait on the ship. I have to do something." She responded wearily, putting her blaster in its holster on her leg.

Padmé watched Threepio leave the room once more and made her way over to her nightstand. She opened the bottom drawer and lifted out the secret compartment in it. Inside lay a holorecorder she used to record messages in the event of something bad happening her. Messages to her friends and family, ones she had compiled over the years. Each sorted into a folder that could be only be opened by the person to whom it pertained, providing they knew the password. She had made arrangements for it to be found should she ever die without closure for those she left behind. Recently she had started recording messages for her unborn child, because of Ani's premonitions.

Padmé's gut had been nagging at her ever since she decided to go to Mustafar, telling her she might not come back, so with trembling hands, the former Queen of Naboo turned on and set up the recorder for what felt like a final time. The light flashed indicating it had started recording.

"I'm going to Mustafar to talk to Ani. I saw... I saw a recording of someone killing younglings, and Obi-Wan, he said-" At this point Padmé's throat closed up and she felt tears welling up once more. She took a deep, steadying breath. Clearing her throat she began once more.

"I think Obi-Wan was right, Ani's changed and it's not for the better. I don't want to believe that the person in the holovideo was him, and I won't, not unless he tells me it was. Maybe not even then."

Padmé heard a knock on her door and knew her time was up, it was undoubtedly Captain Typho asking why she was preparing her ship at such an odd time in the morning.

"I think it's time for me to go. If the worst comes to pass, know that I love each of you with every piece of my being. Hopefully this message will never been seen and I can delete it when I come back with Ani, but I don't think things will be that simple. They never are." She uttered the final sentence softly and turned off the recording.

Padmé sent the video to every folder and placed the holorecorder in her pocket. She would entrust it to Artoo later, she decided. She then greeted an impatient Captain Typho. He accompanied her to her ship but she eventually managed to brush him off with a reassurance that Threepio would look after her.

With a little difficulty Padmé climbed aboard her ship and into the cockpit.

She was not as sharp as she usually was (her mind was otherwise preoccupied), or she would have noticed a cloaked Obi-Wan following her and stowing himself away onboard.

With a heavy heart, Padmé took off. She turned autopilot off, preferring to have something to concentrate on instead of worrying. It would only drive her insane.

It was only a few hours to the volcanic system of Mustafar. This was to be the longest trip of Padmé's life, despite not being the longest in terms of time.

After all too long, Padmé entered the Mustafar system. There weren't many places to land, so Padmé chose the closest one which also was next to a control centre of some sort.

She sat there for a moment, at a loss as to what to do. There was always some predetermined plan when entering a possibly hostile situation, but how could a person prepare to accuse their husband of mass murder? Her head fell into her hand and a solitary tear fell from the young woman. She wiped it away, promising herself there would be no more tears until after this was over.

A figure emerged from a close by building and it was unmistakably Anakin. He ran to greet her. Despite herself, Padmé's heart swelled at the sight of her husband. Abandoning Threepio and his chatter, she met her husband close to the entrance of her ship.

They embraced tightly and Padmé relaxed for the first time all day, Anakin's gentle touch letting her know that everything would be alright.

"I saw your ship." Anakin said quietly, resting his head atop hers. His Angel muttered his name and withdrew from him a small bit.

"I was so worried about you! Obi-Wan told me terrible things." She said tearfully, her brown eyes staring intently into his own, trying to determine his thoughts. She touched Anakin's face to reassure herself that he was still here with her.

Something in Anakin's face shifted, his features hardened when he asked: "What things?"

"He said that you turned to the dark side...that you killed younglings." She cried, hardly able to say the sentence, let alone think about it.

"Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me." Her husband stated, his eyes flashing yellow for a moment. Padmé stilled against him, wondering it it was a trick of the light.

Still she continued, saying "He cares about us, he knows...He wants to help you." She ignored his repetition of the word "us" and the fury that it contained.

"Anakin, all I want is your love."

Her voice cracked slightly when she said it, but he didn't notice.

"Love won't save you Padmé. Only my new powers can do that." He ignored the small shudder she made when he finished his sentence.

"At what cost? You're a good person, don't do this!" She exclaimed, wanting to reach for his hand but something stopped her.

"I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of and I'm doing it for you. To protect you."

Oh Force, did he actually...

"Come away with me. Help me raise our child, leave everything else behind while we still can." One last plead, but Padmé didn't know that. She ran her hands over his hair, nearly stumbling over her words as they fell from her mouth.

Anakin began speaking, but Padmé could only hear the blood rushing in her ears. She heard snippets, "Peace to the Republic", "Overthrow" and then the worst of all. Padmé's mind honed in on his proclamation: "We can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be."

In that one moment, Padmé's mind went blank. Did he even know what she stood for? That she was for democracy as much as she was for life itself; that millions of people on her home planet alone depended on her to keep democracy in order and in turn ensure their safety? That she knew an empire was not in the best interests of anyone save Palpatine?

"I don't believe what I'm hearing....Obi-Wan was right, you've changed." She gasped. The love of Anakin's life took a step away from him.

Had he killed the younglings?

"I don't want to hear anymore about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don't you turn against me." He growled and ignored her slack face of horror.

Was that a threat? she wondered.

"I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. You're going down a path I can't follow!" She cried, fully meaning every word. She wouldn't follow him into this darkness. She could see his eyes now, startlingly yellow. The colour of a Sith. Still, she pushed onwards. This was her fault, these deaths were her fault and the blood was on her hands. She would bring her husband back to the light. He of all people was never pure, but once upon a time, on a planet far away he had been determined to do the right thing to help the strangers who had shown him even a little kindness. Surely he of all people understood that the empire was evidently to be little more than disguised slavery and exploitation of basic rights?

"Because of Obi-Wan?" Anakin questioned, staring at her intently.

"Because of what you've done, what you plan to do! Stop, stop now. Come back! I love you." She cried, on the border of hysteria.

"LIAR!" Her husband roared, his eyes fixated on a point behind her.

She whirled to see Obi-Wan standing at the top of the descending ramp. Her eyes widened, how dare he?

""No!" Padmé cried, utterly shocked at Obi-Wan's betrayal.

"You're with him, you brought him here to kill me." She whirled back to Anakin, desperate to convince him that she would never, even in a million lives betray him, much less plot his demise. But instead, she found her husband's hand outstretched and clenching the air around him.

But it wasn't the air around him that he was constricting, Padmé realised as her throat tightened and she couldn't inhale. Her heart clenched painfully as if it were her that that was being crushed and not her airway. The young woman's hands went to her neck, trying to loosen the invisible grip upon her. Eyes pleading with her husband, she whispered his name once more, to release her for the sake of her children if not for her herself. Her lungs burned painfully as they begged for air she couldn't give. She felt a weak kick from the child in her stomach, reminding her she had to live. But her vision was going black around the edges, and it seemed so much easier to slip into the abyss that beckoned her.

She heard a faint cry from Obi-Wan and was dimly aware of her legs falling from underneath her. As she fell, both to the ground and into unconsciousness, she cradled her stomach with her hands to protect her child. Her last glimpse was of Anakin, his face contorted with rage, yellow eyes burning.

This was not the man she loved.

Padmé woke up, acutely aware of a fierce pain in her throat and a worse one in her head. She opened her eyes to see Obi-Wan beside her, his face contorted with worry.

"Obi-Wan, where's Anakin? Is he alright?" She whispered, before feeling her body go limp and falling unconscious once more.

She awoke once more on an operating table. Not aware of what she was doing, she let out a cry of pure anguish, not from the physical pain but one that surrounded her. It was like thousands of lights were being extinguished and she knew that the lights were lives. How she knew, she didn't know, but she knew all the same.

She cried out, seeing Obi-Wan standing outside the room. His eyes met hers in a sorrowful gaze and in that moment she knew that Ani was dead.

Whether it be in terms of life or as the man she once knew, she wasn't sure. They were equally painful.

She didn't resent Obi-Wan for what he did, it was almost as painful for him as it would have been for her to do it herself.

She let out a cry at the feeling of her baby making it's way out, it felt like she was ripping in half. She heeded the instructions of the midwife droid as best she could through her pained state, and after blood and sweat and many tears, she welcomed her baby into the world. Relief filled her, she had defied Anakin's premonition and survived. But the droid informed her that the child was one of two. Twins.

Padmé's mouth opened in a soundless howl as she delivered her second child into the world.

She was barely aware of naming them, but she went with the names she and Anakin had chosen.

A boy and a girl. Luke and Leia.

The former queen was conscious of something tugging her away from her life. Agonisingly slowly, her vision faded and the blackness beckoned her. She fought it tooth and nail but it was insistent. She felt her lungs stop taking air in, felt herself die. Somewhere in the darkness, she couldn't tell how long it took, she felt a spark, two sparks and her mind recognised them. Family, her mind called them, family.

With a jolt of recognition Padmé pushed death away with a mighty shove and a mental scream of defiance. Nothing would take her away from her children, not now and most certainly not until it was her time.

She cried as she held them, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed reassurances to them that she would always take care of them.

As she walked to the conference centre, she refused to lean against Obi-Wan. Weakness was not tolerable, she had faced worse than this before and managed to walk unhindered. As she walked she gazed at the two children she held so close to both her body and her heart already. Obi-Wan held a door open for her and she sat herself down to his right, opposite Bail.

"Padmé, you of all people have to understand that sacrifices must be made." Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation, knowing his attempts were futile but trying nonetheless.

"Sacrifice? Don't act as if you're the only one making sacrifices Kenobi. My whole life I have sacrificed. I will not negotiate this." In her words a regal tone could be heard, reminding them exactly who she was and what life she had lived.

"They are my children, and since your Jedi Order is partly to blame for the loss of my husband, I will do my utmost best to prevent the same from happening to my children. They will grow up in a home with their mother, they will love and be loved."

"Senator Amidala, allowing your emotions to cloud your judgement you are." Yoda warned.

"These children are borne of my flesh and my blood. I will not compromise their happiness by keeping them away from the little family they have! I don't care if I have to spend my whole life on the run to protect them. I will reinstate the republic singlehandedly if I must. But do not attempt to take my children away from me for you know as well as I that I am a force not to be reckoned with."

Yoda acquiesced with very little grace and stood back from the Queen.

"A rebellion you wish to create?" He asked, face pensive. He sensed something stirring inside the Senator, an uprising.

"I've already started it would seem." She replied, allowing herself a wry grin. After all, what was the Delegation of Two Thousand if not a rebellion against the powers Palpatine held?

She met Bail's eyes, a silent agreement passing between the two ot them.

She had brought her planet to salvation when she was just a mere girl. Now she was a woman, what was to say she couldn't do the same for the Republic? (as long as she had the right contacts of course)

And contacts she had.

#padmé #padme amidala #queen amidala #senator amidala #amidala #angst #vader #darth vader #prequels #obi wan kenobi #fall of the republic #padmé lives #au #star wars

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darthsharapova · 7 years

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An obikin prompt for you! Anakin realizes he has fallen in love with Obi-Wan when he is carrying the unconscious man in RotS. He realizes Obi-Wan loves him (based on Obi-Wan's words) before the man goes to fight Grievous. Anakin knows Obi-Wan wasn't "cheating" with Padme as Palpatine said as Obi-Wan's com had records of the man being on a 4 way com call with Ti, Bail, and Vos. How does this effect Anakin's interactions with the man as Vader?

OMG YES A PROMPT! I LOVE YOU MY LITTLE SUNFLOWER ANON 🌻❤ (please feel free to send me more prompts y'all!!) Now I want to apologize, though, I might write/interpret this differently than you meant it, so bear with me!! (Also, I’m using the unused Padmé RotS arc where she goes to Mustafar planning to kill Anakin 👍🏼 because it’s some good stuff) (P.S. I’m sorry if this is awful and not what you wanted 😂😭)

He didn’t know how things had gone so wrong. It had been simple, really. Save Padmé and the baby at all cost. What that cost was though? He hadn’t been sure, hadn’t even found the need within himself to question it. Where was the Chancellor getting this information? Why had the man taken such an interest in making sure he knew he could teach him ways to save his wife? All were questions he should’ve considered-should’ve taken the time to meditate on. Questions that were important to the delicate balance of the Force that had been on the verge of tipping into chaos for sometime now. All of this, and he failed to ask the right questions. Anakin- no, Lord Vader now- stood in the control room on Mustafar. The mutilated corpses of the slain Separatist leaders on the duracrete tile. Vader peered out into the dusk. His new pair of yellow eyes perusing the barren wasteland of ash and rock. The golden halos glowing under the Sith’s black hood. The arid breeze stealing strands the blonde out from the clock and bending them to the will of the wind.

The deceptively calm hum of the atmosphere shattered as the familiar purr of a space cruiser broke through the planet’s barrier. Vader heaved in labored guilt-ridden breaths. The weight of all his transgressions crushing him and his conscious. The all too familiar sight of the platinum Naboo cruiser brought in waves of anxiety. The shimmering vessel sliced through the thick polluted air, making its way towards the landing pad. Lord Vader brought his gloved hand to his mouth, unable to control the whimpers that left him, whimpers that betrayed him, whimpers that made him weak. How could he face Padmé? How could he face her after the events that had transpired over the last couple of months? He was devoted to her, yes, and he never questioned his loyalty to the woman bearing his child. But his love, his allegiance was with one who would never take him after this. Not after what would be seen at the Temple. The fallen Masters, the younglings..His mind had been so easily poisoned, so easily invaded, yet he had still come here to finish off the last of the resistance, the last of the Chancellor’s liabilities. No, he couldn’t face her, not when his love for another was so strong.

He’d realized his true weakness for Obi-Wan the day they’d gone to rescue Palpatine, which now in retrospect was a complete and utter failure for the Order to miss. “His fate will be the same as ours” he’s said to Sheev. How had he not seen the looks of contempt, the vile sneers, and the clear disregard for his presence? All of it failed to matter now, though. All he was aware of, was how hopelessly in love with his former Master he was. In those moments, bounding down the failing corridors of the shuttle, he knew how bonded he was to the man. Obi-Wan had transcended the lines of Jedi, Master, even friend, and stolen a place in Anakin’s heart. He knew he couldn’t leave the man behind, he wouldn’t be able to go on without him. Obi-Wan had his flaws. He was a perfectionist, he was passive aggressive, he was infuriating, he didn’t know how to express emotion. Yet, despite all of it, Anakin knew he loved him. His attachment to the man solidified when he came to, and clung to Anakin to keep him safe. They molded so well together, body, mind, and spirit. They balanced each other. It’s what they’d always done. He was perfectly content to love unrequited, though, knowingly full well the older man was too good a Jedi to feel anything back.

It wasn’t until Obi-Wan was leaving for Utapau that everything changed for Anakin. Their parting was special, different than the ones they’d shared before. Obi-Wan was supportive and kind, not critical and chastising. He’d told Anakin that he was proud of him, told him that he was already a better Jedi than he could even hope to be. Obi-Wan had called him an old friend, and recognized his growth, his maturity. Obi-Wan’s Force signature sang differently that day too, raw emotion seeping from him and into their bond. It was so overwhelming, and Anakin wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling until Obi-Wan had turned to leave. Obi-Wan loved him. He may not have said it outright, but Anakin knew that’s what he meant. He could feel it inside him, and the Force only confirmed it. Neither one of them could have predicted, however, just how quickly things would fall apart after that.

Padmé had been up to something after that, and he’d feared the worst. Infidelity. Certainly it was out of her character, and he knew it, but his mind had been ravaged, and Palpatine had planted the seed in his thoughts. How could Padmé do this to him? And with Obi-Wan? Anakin had gone to the Temple archives with R2 and gotten him to slice into the data storing com logs. There’d been frequent 4 way conversation with Obi-Wan, Bail Organs, Quinlan Vos, and Shaak Ti. Anakin learned a shocking truth. Obi-Wan knew about himself and Padmé, and was confiding in the others on how to approach him. How to approach him with understanding, and how to not get him angry or distrusting. Quinlan had been the most outspoken, telling him to be done with it, tell Anakin how he felt about everything, try to help him, and… be with him? Organa had agreed for the most part, advising him to follow his heart is its own matters, and not to talk himself out of it. Master Ti was naturally against everything, which was not a surprise. The surprise was the undertones to the conversations Anakin was missing. He knew there was something they were talking about that he wasn’t picking up on, and it made him boil with suspicion. If Padmé wasn’t being unfaithful, there was something going on that he didn’t know about. So it was that he confided in a man he always had.

And that man corrupted him. The Chancellor turned him against his friends, his fellow Jedi, and he’d slaughtered them. The clones turned on their leaders, cutting them down in cold blood. A massacre. Anakin could only kneel in his moment of weakness and pledge faithfulness to the deranged Sith. He felt it in the Force as the souls of the Jedi departed, he physically couldn’t withstand the ache in his heart.

And so, it was with the corruption of the Republic and the Order, that Vader found himself gazing out the window, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as he realized he had to face his wife, the woman he’d claimed to do it all for. He watched as the speeder landed, and the platform lowered. Padmé emerged, dressed in crimson robes, fine embroidery and ornate details, seemingly out of place. Vader’s sickly yellow orbs matched the danger and evil around him, though. The lava spewing forth in tall pillars, hissing as they stretched to their limit,l before plummeting back down to the sea of magma.

Padmé approached him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers carding through the curls at the base of her husbands neck. His arms gingerly wrapped around her waist, and she stiffened only slightly, before remembering her purpose. She had to find the truth. As dark as it may turn out to be, she was ready. Ready to confront him.

“Anakin. I’ve heard whispers. Terrible whispers. That you turned to the Dark Side. Destroyed the Temple. Killed younglings. Tell me they aren’t true!” Her husband avoided her eyes, casting his gaze to the ground.

The silence all the answer she needed, she dropped her arms to her sides, the vast sleeves swallowing her hands as they fell. She reached up to her wrist, feeling the point of the sterling blade she’d stashed. Ready to unsheathe it, she paused.

“I-there is no excuse Padmé.” He murmured, broken.

“I thought what I was doing was right, I was doing it to save you. To save him.”

Padmé licked her lips, resolve wavering, and she looked to the side before she faced her husband again. Her whole world had come crashing down in the same day. The Senate, her life’s work, what she devoted her time and energy to had fallen. Fallen with thunderous applause to the poisoned words of Palpatine, a man she used to trust. Now, she stared at her husband, a fallen Jedi, and broken man, and she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do what she’d come to do, what she’d willed herself to try. She could fix him, she could fix this.

“Anakin. You don’t have to continue down this path. We can leave, raise the baby, have a life away from this corruption and hatred.” She cupped his face then, wiping the tears that fell with her thumb.

“No. No, I can’t. I have to do this. I have to-” he stopped for a moment. He was about to break his marriage. “-I have to save Obi-Wan. From myself, and from the Emperor.” Padmé was crying now too, and swallowed. She placed a hand on her hip, sleeve opening, and the knife fell to the ground with a clatter. Vader’s eyes widened with realization, and he stepped back from his wife.

“You came here to kill me.”

“Anakin. Please. Calm down.” She pleaded, trying to sound calm, her tone stricken with fear.

“You were going to strike me down. You came to betray me.” He raised he is arm, lifting her from the ground, her legs dangling.

“Anakin, that is enough.” The familiar accent rang.

“Let her go.” Obi-Wan articulated. Vader’s eyes flickered from the man to the suspended woman and gasped in horror. What was he doing? This wasn’t right? It wasn’t to end this way. He laid Padmé to the side, watching as the older Jedi dropped his cloak.

“You turned her against me…” Vader seethed. “You did this!”

“No, you did that yourself. You let the Chancellor get to you, get inside your head. Anakin,” the auburn haired man whispered, moving forward slightly. “I know you. This isn’t who you are, you can stop all of this!”

Another eruption of lava, and Vader drew his gaze away from his former Master. He closed his eyes, and felt the dry gust of air on his face. The coarse soot, scratching him. He felt a hand cup his face, and he leaned into the touch.

“Anakin. You can fix this. You’re so strong.” He ran a thumb over Vader’s cheekbone. “You’re kind.” There was a pause, a long one, and Vader felt a pair of lips where the thumb had been. “You’re brave. You’re passionate. You’re The Chosen One.” Each adjective articulated by a chaste kiss to dry chapped skin.

Tears were steadily falling from the younger man’s eyes now. Convulsions and whimpers shaking his frame. Obi-Wan put both hands on either side of Vader’s face.

“And I love you.” Anakin now opened his eyes, lips parted in shock. Surely he’d known what he’d done. Surely he’d seen the Temple footage. This had to be a ploy, a trick to get him into custody. He’d be taken prisoner, tried and executed as a traitor. The Emperor warned him of this. But Anakin stopped his thoughts. Stopped the fear and chaos roaring and ravaging through him, and he did what he should’ve done from the beginning. He searched his feeling, searched the bond. He let out a sob then, when he felt that Obi-Wan’s feelings were true. He jolted forward and embraced the older man, kissing him with renewed zeal and vigor.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I beg you. I love you too. I love you so much.” Anakin cried into the crook of the older man’s neck.

“We can fix this Anakin. Together.” He lifted Anakin’s chin and looked him in the eyes. The pale sickly yellow still shooting back at him.

“What about Palpatine…” Anakin whispered.

“Again, something we’ll handle together, dear one.” Obi-Wan let a small frail smile grace his features as he knitted his fingers with the younger man’s.

#i'm honestly sorry #anon ask #obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #ficlet

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